


Raised By Wolves

by smoviescenes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Blowjobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Broken Bones, Castiel Has Issues, Castiel Has Secrets, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Denial of Feelings, Fights, First Time, Fist Fights, Fluff, Fuckbuddies, Gabriel Ships It, Hiding, Hospital Sex, Hospitalization, Hospitals, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Prison, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Smut, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Violence, Virgin Castiel, a lot of fighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 09:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11871120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoviescenes/pseuds/smoviescenes
Summary: Dean never thought he would actually get arrested, but here he is. Two years in Bucklin Prison, locked in and separated from his brother and father. His big-brother persona gets him in trouble when he crosses paths with Alastair, Bucklin's greatest bully, and he finds himself stuck between wanting to help and wanting to get out as soon as possible.The real problem, however, is when he meets the dark-haired inmate, Castiel, and the two slowly form a relationship that surely was never meant to last.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I visited a prison in Belfast, Northern Ireland, and immediately knew that I had to write this. The title comes from the U2 song "Raised By Wolves", which is about the events in Northern Ireland (this fic has nothing to do with Ireland, but since the prison does I kind of like the connection). Look it up, it's a great song. 
> 
> I hope you like it, and feel free to comment - I love hearing your thoughts!  
> xx

_ **730/730** _

 

_ They hand him a bag with the number 7246 stamped on the side. He looks up at the guard, one he has seen a few times but never had any interaction with, and is met by two impatient eyes. _

_ ”Go on. Get out of here.” _

_ He doesn’t have to be told twice. Dean grabs the bag with fumbling fingers and takes it to the changing room. His jeans sit a little loosely on his hips, the t-shirt not quite as tight as it once was. However his dad’s old flannel shirt is softer than he remembered and the instant it falls on his shoulders he can breathe again. _

_ He is going home. _

_ In the back pocket of the jeans he finds the photo of his mom and he smiles at it. Carefully, so as not to ruin it, he folds it in half and puts it back.  _

_ Gabriel waits for him outside the room. _

_ ”Looking good, Winchester.” _

_ He doesn’t know what to say so he throws a slanted grin. _

_ ”Come on. I’ll take you out. There’s a car waiting for you.” _

_ Right. A cab is driving him to Dodge City, where he is taking a bus to Salina, then Topeka, and finally Lawrence. It’ll take him at least six hours.  _

_ They head outside, Gabriel as chatty as ever, and Dean is going to miss him, strange as it is to admit that. The scar on his cheek has faded to not much more than a pink bump.  _

_ Suddenly they are at the gates. And there, on the road outside, is the impala. Dean can feel his face split into a wide grin as he spots Sam, hair longer and at least a fucking head taller than the last time they saw each other, leaning on the fender. He gets to his feet as their eyes meet. _

_ ”Gabriel-” Dean starts, but he is cut off. _

_ ”Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I’m gonna puke. Just go.” _

_ He unlocks the heavy gate and swings it open, and Dean steps over the threshold. He might have had some idea that the air outside would be fresher, the sun brighter, but the truth is that it’s pretty much the same.  _

_ He goes to meet his brother, and he doesn’t look back.  _

 

 

 

 

**1/730**

 

He is not quite sure how he ended up here. The door shuts with a heavy sound and he is locked into a small cubicle, barely three feet wide and even less than that across.

Fuck.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

A towel is pushed in under the door.

"Strip and cover yourself with that. Put your clothes in the bag," a voice commands, and he has no choice but to obey. Boots, socks, jeans, flannel, shirt, underwear. Standing naked as the day he was born makes him quite uncomfortable when he has no control over when the door might open. Quickly he grabs the towel and wraps it around his waist, holding it tightly with his left hand.

"Now what?" he asks. 

There is no answer.

He only stands for a few minutes before the fatigue sets in and he sits on the narrow bench. Fumbling fingers opens the bag with his clothes again, with the number 7246 stamped on the side. He digs out the photograph stuck in the back pocket of his jeans.

He will not cry, damnit, but he's scared shitless and desperate and fuck, who is going to take care of his brother? 

The tears dry after a while. If anyone heard his muffled sobs, they are quiet about it.

With a heavy sigh he leans his head back and lets his eyes roam the walls surrounding him. Little crooked lines form names and bad jokes and his lips pull up in a half-hearted attempt at a smile. 

He uses the metal in his belt to scratch his own name into the wall. It's strangely comforting to know that at least people will know that he was here. 

It takes hours before the door opens, abruptly waking him from his nap. 

"Winchester. You're up." 

He is led into another room, where two wardens and a doctor wait for him. The door is shut and when the doctor asks him to stand in the middle of the room and drop the towel, he doesn't know how to refuse. He is prodded and weighed and measured and the two wardens stand in the corner, not at all interested in how his cheeks heat up when the doctor takes his temperature. And it sure as hell wasn't in his mouth. 

Finally, they give him some clothes. Underwear and a bright orange jumpsuit. The wardens push him outside and onwards, through a hallway and a heavy door. Suddenly there are hundreds of voices yelling at him and he forces himself to keep his back straight and his face neutral (he may have flipped someone off after they spat at his feet, but at least he keeps quiet). 

A towel and a soap bar is pushed into his arms before they shove him into a room and lock the door.

He is not alone though. 

The guy barely looks his way when he speaks.

"Welcome to Bucklin Prison." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapters, I'll try to update as quickly as I can!   
> Tell me what you think xx

**2/730**

 

His cellmate’s name is Benny, and once they got the names sorted out and Benny has told him to ”sleep in the top bunk or sleep on the floor”, Dean learned that he’s actually quite a nice guy. When Dean fumbled with the towel and the soap bar, Benny showed him where to put them. When the guards came by and shouted that it was lights out and time for bed, Benny shoved a book into his hands and told him that there would be enough light coming in through the window to read. 

He had a hard time falling asleep, and once he did it felt like he got about two minutes of rest before the lights were turned on and people were ordered out of bed.

Now he’s standing behind Benny in the line to the cafeteria. The smell of food and heat and sweat is nauseating, but Dean takes a tray and tries not to gag when a serving of something that might resemble porridge is given to him. Benny just rolls his eyes.

”You’ll get used to it.”

They sit on an unoccupied table, soon to be joined by two other guys: one scrawny-looking kid who introduces himself as Garth, one black guy with a haunted look in his eyes who Benny introduces as Henriksen. 

”This is Dean Winchester. My new roomie.”

”Aww, what happened to Arthur? Was he let out?”

”Transferred to A-block,” Benny says around a mouthful of porridge. Dean is still considering whether it is worth it to even taste the food.

”A-block?” Garth continues. ”So they found the guy who did it?” 

”Apparently.”

”Wait, what?” Dean frowns, sensing that he’s missing half the story.

Garth gives him an excited look and peeks over his shoulder, as if to check that no one’s listening.

”Arthur Ketch, sent here for killing a guy, when he was more of an…accomplice. A-block’s prisoners are…upper-class-citizens. The ones who can pay their way out.” 

”Sounds unfair,” Dean mutters. Garth lets out a sound that can’t be described as anything but a _giggle_ , but none of the others react so Dean keeps his face neutral.

”Dean, there is nothing about this place that is fair.”

 

After breakfast they are taken outside to the exercise yard. No one actually does any exercise, but the chilly air and the chance to stretch their legs is a nice change. Dean is not claustrophobic, hell no, but there is something about being locked indoors that creates an itch underneath his skin. 

They barely make it outside before Dean is shoved face-first to the ground. He tries to get up but is immediately knocked down by a foot to the sternum that snatches his breath away. 

”What’s this? Fresh meat?” a voice snarls, and Dean is met by a foul breath and cold eyes. 

”Get off me,” Dean spits. He is rewarded by an icy laugh.

”Ooh, feisty. Now, now…” he grabs a fistful of Dean’s hair and yanks his head back. ”Let me make something very, very clear. I am not afraid of killing you. I’ll do it. Snap your neck before the wardens know what happened.” 

There’s not much time to think, really, but Dean still has time to weigh his options. Kick the guy’s ass, which will definitely lead to some kind of punishment, or just take it. Dean has never really been one to stand down from a fight, but it’s his second day here and maybe the best thing to do would be to stay low. Besides, there’s something about the threat that sounds so much like John’s drunk words that Dean manages to shake it off with a laugh. 

”You’re the boss, I get it. Now get off me.” 

They lock eyes and Dean forces himself not to break the contact, to hold on until a smile reaches the man’s lips and he pulls away.

”We’re going to have so much fun, you and I.” 

He makes sure to shove Dean hard into the ground, and walks away. Dean takes a deep breath and puts himself together, remembers that he needs to play it cool and stay out of trouble so he can get out of here as soon as possible. He still makes a show not to accept Benny’s extended help, however.

”What the fuck, man? Thanks for the help.”

”Sorry, brother, but I got a wife and a kid that I need to get back to. They’re gonna let me out early and I won’t gamble that chance.” 

Dean exhales forcefully and closes his eyes.

”It’s fine. I get it.” 

Benny just looks at him curiously and gives him a knowing smile. ”You got a kid out there?”

”A kid brother that I practically raised. So, yeah. I get it.” Benny claps him on the shoulder.

”Sorry.”

”Who was that guy, anyways?”

”Alastair Sinclair. He’s an asshole, and a creepy one at that. You’d do best to stay on his good side.”

Dean grunts affirmatively and shakes the tension out of his shoulders. _Think about Sam. Blasting Metallica out of the Impala’s speakers._

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see how Alastair shoves a skinny guy to the ground and Dean realizes that it’s Garth. 

”Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

 

 

**3/730**

 

Isolation _sucks_. 

And yeah, maybe he deserves it, because Alastair is in the hospital with a broken nose and a busted eyebrow, but still. The guy had it coming. 

It’s not like Dean had _planned_ to start a fight on his second day, it just sort of…happened. Because Alastair is an asshole and the guy Garth clearly needed some backup. 

Oh well.

The room is fucking tiny and there’s nothing but a mattress on the floor and a toilet that _reeks._ Fucking hell, he’s gonna go fucking crazy in here. The only thing he can really do is stare into the wall, count the freckles on his left hand, pace from wall to wall and see for how long he can hold his breath. 

Twenty-four hours is a long, long time, but eventually the lock on the door clicks and a warden stands just outside.

”Let’s go, Winchester.”

Once he gets out it’s way past noon, and Dean is starving. Unfortunately the cafeteria is closed, so he has no choice but to go to his afternoon activity. Apparently the government has decided that the prisoners need to do something productive while they are locked up, presumably to keep everyone from killing each other out of pure boredom. 

Dean is assigned to a _carpentry class_. God must have a really dry sense of humor. Out there, he used to work as a mechanic or help out with construction, so if there’s one thing he can do it’s use his hands. 

The warden pushes him into the room and the teacher looks up. 

”You’re late.” His voice is flat and unenthusiastic and good lord, there is a christian cross in his hands that’s definitely hand-made.

”I was in isolation,” Dean explains, regretting it the moment the teacher’s eyebrow lifts. He shouldn’t have said anything, he should have kept his mouth shut and just taken a seat, damn it. The guy sitting at the far back of the room looks up and meets his eyes. Dean finds himself incapable of looking away, because the guy has the bluest eyes he has ever seen and there is something about the way he tilts his head and regards him that makes something twist in Dean’s gut. 

”Sit down.” 

Dean resists the urge to salute the teacher. He walks across the room, pointedly ignoring anyone and everyone, and takes the free seat next to the guy with the blue eyes. They lock eyes again and Dean throws on a grin.

”Hey.” 

Instead of replying, or greeting him like a normal human being would, the guy just tilts his head further and squints his eyes, as if he has bad eyesight and is trying to make out Dean’s features.

”Why were you in isolation?”

The rest of the people in the room have refocused on their work, chatting amongst themselves, and Dean finds himself not knowing what to do. Before he can ask, however, the guy hands him a piece of wood.

”You split it in half and nail them to each other. Make a cross,” the guy says patiently, nodding towards the bench where there’s a wood-saw, a hammer and a pack of nails.

”I beat a guy who was beating another guy. No biggie,” Dean says, figuring that the least he can do to thank him is answer his question. He starts working on the wood and glances at the guy. His fingers are moving swiftly over the finished cross.

”When did you get here?”

”Two days ago?” 

The guy chuckles and ducks his head, eyes closing briefly and _crap_ , Dean needs to _stop staring at him_.

”You have been busy.”

”Well, what can I say? Standing up for the little guy, it’s what I do.” 

The guy looks doubtful, but at least he doesn’t say anything.

”I’m Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.” He reaches a hand out that the guy just looks at.

”Castiel Novak.”

”Pleased to meet you, Cas.” He retracts the hand and offers a smile. It is not returned. Instead he finds himself looking into those quizzical eyes again, somehow incapable of looking away. 

”You don’t say much, do you?” Dean asks, and this time Castiel breaks the heavy gaze.

”What do you want me to say?” 

There is an honesty in his voice that Dean is not used to hearing, and he swallows hard. What is this guy’s _deal_ with making him feel like a nervous teenager on prom?

”Nothin’, I don’t know. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Castiel grits his teeth together and Dean can see his fingers tightening around the cross. He’s upset.

”You shouldn’t. You should leave me alone.” 

With a defeated gesture, Dean throws his arms up into the air and gets off the chair. ”Fine, whatever. Thanks for the help.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter for you, hope you like it xx

**6/730**

 

The next time Dean meets Castiel Novak, it’s under completely different circumstances. This time, Dean is caught up in a fist-fight with Alastair and his goonies, and Cas just happens to walk by. Their eyes meet and the split second’s distraction is all Alastair needed to knock him to the ground. Dean stays down, hoping that they’ll leave him, and after a few minutes where no one says anything or does anything, they finally saunter off. 

He should pick himself up from the ground before the wardens see him, but for now laying down just feels too good. His head is swimming and he can feel blood clotting up his nose and it’s getting a bit difficult to breathe. 

”Do you need some help?” a slightly familiar voice asks, and Dean rolls his head to the side till he spots Cas, no more than a yard or so away. His body is silhouetted with sunlight. 

”I’m good right here, actually.” 

”Oh.” 

Cas doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t leave, either, so Dean figures that he wants something. Unfortunately for the guy, Dean does not currently have enough patience to have him hanging around.

”Look, man, either join me on the ground or get out of my face. You’re creeping me out.” 

There is a moment of silence where Dean thinks that he is going to leave, but then the guy actually kneels and lies down next to him. Their elbows graze along with a burst of electricity through Dean’s skin.

Out of the blue Cas says, ”It’s pretty.”

”What?” 

”The sky.” 

”I guess.” 

Dean closes his eyes and tries to focus on breathing. That fucking Alastair, he’s going to fucking kill him. Today he’d been circling Victor, launching one racist slur after the other, and Dean wasn’t just gonna stand there and watch it happen. For some reason he is always the one to end up bleeding and broken on the ground.

He shouldn’t mind, really, that people are being bullied. Most of the guys in here are assholes and most of them deserve to be punished, but Alastair is just too much. Besides, Dean has a nagging feeling that something’s up with Victor’s case. The guy is the most honest and humble guy he has ever met, no way he could have done something to end up in here.

On the other hand, Cas seems pretty decent too. Typical Dean, to make friends in prison out of all places. 

Not that he and Cas are friends.

”I thought you told me to stay away from you?” Dean mumbles, eyes still pinched shut against the sunlight. God, they must look weird lying on the ground together. It’s a wonder the wardens haven’t told them off yet. 

”I did.”

”So, changed your mind, did you?” _Jesus_ , this guy. 

”No.”

Dean resists the urge to smack him in the face (because honestly, he’s acting like Sammy when he’s in a bad mood) and forces a deep breath.

”I’m confused, man. Wanna clear things up for me?”

Cas’s breath stutters, as if he is uncertain whether to speak or not, but Dean waits him out. It takes no more than thirty seconds.

”You should not be kind to me. You should not want to speak to me. You should leave me alone and ignore me. It would be in your best interest.”

Dean knocks their elbows together again and snorts some blood back into his nose.

”And if I don’t?”

Cas makes a noise that just has to be a repressed chuckle, and says, ”I have a feeling I could not stop you even if I wanted to.” 

 

 

**7/730**

 

Dean takes the seat next to Cas in carpentry. Today they are making wooden boxes, god knows why, and they all get to work as the teacher pulls out a magazine and starts to read. Dean scoots closer to Cas.

”Can I ask you something?” he says quietly, and there is a flash of nervousness in the blue eyes. It’s enough to make Dean hesitate.

_Why are you in here? What could_ you _possibly have done to end up in prison?_

”What do you think about my artwork?” He turns the box around to show the precariously detailed dick that he has painted. Cas rolls his eyes but does it with a scoff of a laughter, which Dean considers to be a win.

”Very…tasteful. You should show it to Walker.” 

”I’ll do it if you tell him why you’ve made a crucifix instead of a box.” Cas stiffens a bit at that, looking down at his work as if he’s just now realizing what he has done. He holds up one of the five square bits of wood that they were given and shows off a beautifully carved cross. 

”I was making it for my father.” 

”Oh,” Dean exhales. And because he’s an asshole that can’t keep his mouth shut, he says, ”Think he’ll want mine too?”

Cas throws a piece of sandpaper at his face. However the broken look in his eyes is gone, for which Dean is grateful. 

 

They leave carpentry together to go to the exercise field. On most days it’s pretty nice to be out in the fresh air, but today the wind is freaking cold and Dean’s teeth are clattering. The hospital stands at one corner of the field, creating a nice little gap that they can squeeze through and then they find themselves in a secluded space, about four feet across. One wall is C-block, one is the hospital, and one is the wall that surrounds the entire prison. 

They sit on the ground, shielded from the wind and everyone’s view. A part of Dean knows that this is dangerous, that he has no idea what Cas has done and that this might not be a good idea, but then the blue eyes lock onto his and there is a soft smile playing on his lips. 

”Tell me something,” Cas says, his voice rough like gravel. Dean swallows heavily.

”Like what?”

”Like, where do you live? Where are you from?” 

Dean can feel a frown growing as he considers whether Castiel could be a serial killer or not.

”I promise you that I will not haunt your house and kill your family. I’m just curious.” 

”Huh, well, curious ain’t gonna cut it,” he says through gritted teeth.

”How about I tell you about my family first? That way, we both know about each other.”

”Cas, I’m not a killer. I broke into a house and stole some stuff.”

”Then I see no reason why we can’t do this. It is just a conversation.”

”Well, find something else to talk about.” 

Cas nods, and _damn it_ , the guy’s patience is unbelievable. ”I have noticed that you are good at carpentry. Is it something you enjoy to do?”

Dean just looks at him, bewildered. Whatever happened to Cas wanting him to stay away? He clears his throat and tries to find the correct answer.

”I’ve worked as a mechanic almost all my life. Sometimes I’d take days jobs at construction. I know how to use my hands.” 

Cas hums in understanding and Dean doesn’t miss how he glances at his hands. They are rough, calloused, knuckles swollen from his latest fight with Alastair. Dean self-consciously wrings them together and remembers that conversations go two ways.

”What about you? You’re not so bad yourself.”

”I enjoy it. It has become something of a hobby while…” He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes flickering back and forth as if searching for the right words. At the end, he looks up at Dean and settles for, ”while I’ve been locked up.” 

”And for how long have you been here?”

”Long enough.” 

Dean doesn’t really know what to say to that. He stretches his legs out on the ground and locks his hands behind his head, ignoring the way his ass is sort of numb from sitting down for too long. It’ll be time for dinner soon, and he wants to enjoy every minute with Castiel that he can get. 

”What’d you work with? Before you ended up here?”

It seems like an innocent question, but Cas still flinches a little and Dean is careful not to show that he noticed. The reason behind Cas’s discomfort is something that he is desperate to find out, but he knows better than to pry.

”Nothing special. I’d like to be a police officer. Or a detective.” 

Dean can’t help himself - he laughs. ”Dude, that’s messed up.”

A smile tugs at Cas’s lips as well, and he shrugs. ”I guess I just want to help people.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**10/730**

 

10 days is honestly not that long, but Dean misses his brother. Hell, he even misses his father, which is saying something. He can only hope that the two haven’t gotten into a fistfight yet, with Dean not being there to break it up. 

It kills him, not knowing what Sam’s doing. If he’s getting to school every day. If he’s getting good grades. If someone’s helping him with his homework (not that Dean ever could, anyways - Sam was always the smart one). 

Worrying about his brother is something that he doesn’t really have time for, because every time his mind wanders Alastair somehow manages to find another victim. 

This time it’s different. 

This time, he goes for Benny. 

Now, Benny is a big guy, and he can take care of himself, but the _idiot_ doesn’t want the wardens to catch him fighting, so he just lets Alastair pound away at him without doing a thing to stop him. 

That’s how Dean finds them, at the end of the exercise field, a group of inmates surrounding them as Alastair makes it his mission to bash Benny’s brains in. Some primal part of Dean’s brain sets in because that’s his _friend_ , and Benny is a _good guy_ , and he doesn’t fucking deserve this. Dean pushes his way through the crowd and stops a well-aimed kick towards Benny’s chest by planting his foot on Alastair’s knee and when he pushes at it, Alastair collapses. It doesn’t take long for him to regain his footing, however, and soon he has Dean in a headlock that threatens to choke him. 

He doesn’t think. He just leans forwards to gain enough momentum that he can knock his head against Alastair’s face and somehow break free of his grip. 

The circle around them is growing, with no way out. Dean spares a quick glance in Benny’s direction, finding that he’s at least sitting on his ass and not lying down on the ground anymore, which lifts some of the tension from his chest. 

When he turns to Alastair again, he is surprised by a fist to the jaw that sends his head spinning. 

Dean is quite a well-built guy, but Alastair is tall and wiry and at least ten years his senior, with a lot more experience. He gets a knee up and hits Dean hard in the stomach, again, and again, making him double over and gasp for air. However, Dean’s threshold for pain is high enough for him to straighten up and deliver a punch to the ugly face, satisfied when he feels something crunch underneath his knuckles. Just as he is about to throw another punch his fist is caught by strong fingers that pull his arms behind his back in a deadlock.

”That’s enough!” a voice yells out sharply, close to Dean’s ear and he shrugs away from it. Alastair makes a move as if to attack Dean again, but the warden shoves hard at his chest and raises a warning finger.

”Get out of my fucking face, Sinclair. Hospital, now.” A second warden grabs Alastair’s wrists and holds them behind his back, similar to how Dean is being restrained, and leads him away to the hospital. Blood is flowing freely from his nose, Dean notes with some satisfaction. 

”That means you too, Winchester. Do you need me to handcuff you or can you walk on your own?”

”I ain’t gonna hit you if that’s what you mean,” Dean growls, and is let go with a short chuckle. 

”Good. Come on.” 

Dean shoots the warden a glance, surprised to find him nearly a head shorter than himself. However, he holds himself proudly and there is a smug smile on his face that just dares you to mess with him. 

”I’m surprised that Alastair is your biggest problem. He is just a pawn, to be honest. Wait till you get a load of some of the others in C-block,” the warden says, eyeing Dean with some humor. 

”I’ve only been here for ten days, so.”

The warden laughs and claps him on the shoulder. ”Take your time, big boy. It’s not like they’re going anywhere.” 

”Hey, who the fuck are you talking about? Do I seriously need to watch out for someone?” Dean asks, figuring that if the warden is chatty he might as well use it to his advantage. 

”Considering your current state and reputation, I’d say so. It’s only a matter of time before they notice you. Luke and Michael, you remember those names. One blond and one black-haired. They’re brothers, and trust me, they make my job hell on earth.” 

”I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you…?”

”Call me Gabriel. Now, come on. Let’s get you stitched up.” 

Dean must give him a seriously doubtful look, because Gabriel laughs and pushes him forwards. 

”You should see your face, my friend. Harvelle is gonna have her work cut out for her.” 

Gabriel takes him into the hospital and leads him up a flight of stairs and into an examination room. It is not too different from the one he was put in on his first day, except for the fact that this one is manned by a woman. Dr. Ellen Harvelle, as it says on the desk. Dean can only sigh and protest mildly as he is being pushed onto a chair by strong but gentle hands. 

”You boys, I swear to god, one day there won’t be any left of you,” she mutters as she examines his face. Gabriel has taken the seat behind her desk, swirling around on the chair. Dean can’t help but marvel at how normal this all feels, and it shoots a pang of longing through his chest. He doesn’t want to be here in this stupid prison with these fucking inmates who want to kick his ass. He wants to be _home_. 

”Who was it?” Ellen asks, pressing a wad of gauze against Dean’s right eyebrow. It stings like hell but he doesn’t even flinch.

”Sinclair,” Gabriel reveals in a ”who-else” kind of voice, and for some reason Dean gets the sense that Ellen wants to slap him. Instead she grabs his chin and gives him a fierce look. 

”You stay out of trouble, you hear me? That man is in here for life and he has made it his mission to bring as many with him as he can. How long are you here for?”

”Two years,” Dean says haltingly, voice broken by pain as Ellen sticks his forehead with a needle. 

”Then you make sure that it won’t be more than that.” The pain soon fades away to a strange numbness. Dean reaches a hand up to touch the wound on his eyebrow but Ellen slaps his hand away. Gabriel looks too amused for his own good. As Ellen brings up a needle and starts tugging at the skin on his forehead, Dean has to close his eyes to keep himself steady. It still hurts, to some extent, but more than that it’s just uncomfortable. 

A few minutes later Ellen drops the equipment on the little table next to her and scrutinizes her work. When she deems it adequate, she coats it with something she says is antibacterial and finishes up by taping some gauze into place over it. 

”Are you gonna tell me that I won’t be seeing you in here again?” she says softly, and a part of Dean is almost sorry to disappoint her.

”Can’t make any promises.” She pats the side of his head with a smile before turning to Gabriel.

”I need him back here in a week to remove the stitches. And for god’s sake, Gabriel, get your feet off my desk.” 

Gabriel salutes her with a nod and heads for the door, a pleased grin on his face. ”Let’s go, cowboy,” he says, leading the way back to C-block. 

 

 

**11/730**

 

Benny doesn’t say anything, but he spots the bandage on Dean’s forehead and gives him a long look. Dean gets it. He wouldn’t know what to say either. 

On the plus side, Alastair is nowhere to be seen at breakfast, so hopefully he will get a few hours of peace before they’re at it again. 

Dean has started to notice that Alastair is not the only one who is playing the big bad bully and is shoving people out of their way, but for now he doesn’t have the energy to focus on anyone else. Gabriel’s warning sits tight in the back of his head and he notices the brothers easily. One with black hair, one with blond, sitting across from each other and looking like your typical serial-killer. Dean shrugs involuntary. He can’t wait to get out of this place. 

Just as Dean is about to sit down next to Benny he spots a familiar tuft of black hair, and realizes that he has never seen Cas at breakfast before. He picks up his tray again and heads in Cas’s direction, pulled back by Garth’s voice.

”Dean? Aren’t you going to sit with us?” 

”Nah, Benny’s being an asshole. See you guys,” he says with a wink in Benny’s direction, making sure that he won’t be offended. The last thing he needs is to piss of the few allies he has.

Dean sets his tray down across from Cas and smiles as he is met by two confused and very, very blue eyes. 

”Mind if I sit?” 

Cas makes a motion that implies that he does not mind, so Dean goes for it. 

”I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at breakfast before,” Dean says through a mouthful of porridge (Benny was right - he’s gotten used to the taste, or rather, the lack of it). 

”I prefer staying in my room. Unfortunately my cellmate insisted I go today.” 

”Insisted? How?” Dean asks, noting that Cas’s plate is still untouched. A blush spreads on Cas’s cheeks and he clears his throat.

”He was being quite loud about it.”

”I don’t-” Dean starts, but cuts himself off as he puts together Cas’s blush and what he’d said and he crinkles his nose. ”Dude, that’s gross.” 

”Which is why I decided to come here instead.” Dean offers him a smile and he can’t help glancing at his plate again. His own plate is already empty and he can still feel his stomach growling.

”Are you gonna eat that?” he mumbles. Cas replies by pushing his plate towards him.

”Please, go ahead.” They change plates so that Castiel gets Dean’s empty one. 

The truth is that Dean has already noticed how he’s losing weight. The food that is served is not necessarily bad, it’s just that the servings are quite small and Dean is used to being able to eat as much as he wants to. He has noticed that some of the larger inmates get bigger servings, but he is afraid to ask for more. 

”How is your head? I saw the fight with Alastair yesterday.”

Dean shrugs, ”I’m fine. Ribs hurt like a son-of-a-bitch though.” A little frown appears between Castiel’s eyebrows, but if he is worried at least he doesn’t mention it. 

”You should have breakfast with us,” he blurts out. ”I mean, if you want to. Me and Benny and the guys, we don’t bite.” 

Something resembling a smile crosses Cas’s features. Dean finds it absolutely endearing. 

”Thank you, Dean. I will consider.” 

 

 

**12/730**

 

Dean spots Cas as he approaches their table cautiously, and waves at him. He makes space on the bench next to him and Cas squeezes in, nodding a hello to the rest of the group. When Dean finishes his serving of porridge, Cas changes their plates without a word. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet comments xx Tell me what you think about the new chapter!  
> (And I'm sorry that I keep putting Dean in these situations, but, well, I can't stop)

**17/730**

 

It’s been two days since Dean’s last fight with Alastair, which must be some kind of a record. Most of the time they have stayed out of each other’s hair, and Dean may have ignored that time he threatened Garth in order to get his cigarettes, because at least he wasn’t hitting the guy. 

It’s been a week since he was at the hospital, and he knows that he’ll be going back to get the stitches removed. Just as he is wondering whether Gabriel will come find him or if he should ask for him, he sees something that sends a shiver down his spine. 

Cas, his face covered in blood. 

There are wardens out on the exercise field, but they are all standing off to the side, smoking and talking, so none of them notices when the dark-haired man punches Cas as the blond one holds him. Without thinking, Dean breaks into a run. 

”Michael, please,” Cas says brokenly, and Dean is less than three yards away when he is stopped by a hard shove that has him spiraling to the ground. 

”You stay out of this,” Alastair snarls, stepping on his wrist and when Dean tries to tug it free, he pushes down with enough force that Dean can feel his bones snap. He cries out breathlessly, pain burning through his throat because Alastair doesn’t move. 

”Remember who’s in charge, boy.” 

The pressure on his wrist disappears and Dean curls in on himself, gasping for breath. 

A voice yells out, ”Damn it, Adler, don’t just stand there. Get off your fucking ass and do something!” 

The distant punches and Cas’s cries die out, and then Gabriel is towering above him. 

”I’m here to take you to the hospital to remove some stitches. Looks like that’s not the only thing Harvelle’ll be doing.” 

Dean takes Gabriel’s hand and pulls himself to his feet, his body aching all over and his wrist all limp and bent in an unnatural angle. He gratefully allows Gabriel to pull his good arm across his shoulders so that he can lean on him as they walk.

”Cas,” he says sharply, not able to open his eyes to look for him.

”Who, Novak? Don’t worry, he’s been through worse.” 

For some reason, that just makes Dean worry more.

Gabriel helps him up the stairs and Dean winces at every step. To distract himself from the pain he asks, ”Who’s Adler?” 

”One of the wardens. The one who was in charge of keeping an eye on you lot, to, I don’t know, keep you from breaking each other’s bones? He’s fucking useless,” Gabriel mutters underneath his breath. 

”I’m glad you came to the rescue, then,” Dean snorts, hissing sharply as he accidentally nudges his wrist. 

”Yeah, don’t mention it. One day they’ll kick my ass too. Come on.” 

Ellen is already waiting for them with a pissed-off expression and a pair of scissors in one hand that Dean would like her to put down before she stabs his eyes out. 

”I thought I told you to stay out of trouble?” 

”It can’t be helped, Ellen, how else am I supposed to get to see you?” 

She snorts an angry laugh and helps Gabriel sit him down, on the bed this time. Quickly she puts in some local anesthesia in his wrist and carefully places it on a rolling table. Dean leans back heavily and breathes through his nose, waiting for the pain to shift away. 

”I’m gonna need to do an x-ray, but it’s busy at the moment. Let me remove those stitches while we wait.” 

It’s not like Dean is going to be able to stop her. He hears a sound that can only mean that Gabriel has taken the seat behind the desk again, which is confirmed when Ellen snaps at him to not keep his feet on the floor. Dean smiles. 

”Tell me something,” Ellen says softly, her face no more than a foot from Dean’s as she’s squinting at the stitches and being careful not to cut into his skin. Dean hums to show that he’s listening.

”I’ve seen guys like you before, the tough, stoic ones who get their asses kicked once a week. But not one of them has stuck to just the one guy. Why Sinclair?”

At a loss of anything else to say, Dean sighs. ”He reminds me of my father.”

”Ah. You’re John Winchester’s boy, aren’t you? You certainly look like him.” 

Dean sits up a little straighter and regrets it the instant it moves his wrist into a painful position. Ellen helps him sort it out before he can answer. 

”How do you know my dad?”

”You ever heard of the Roadhouse?” Dean nods. Yes, John used to go there all the time. ”Me and my late husband started it up a couple years back. My daughter’s running it now, she’s gotta be about the same age as you. Anyways, John Winchester used to come there every goddamn week. He was nice enough, but to tell you the truth, I never trusted him.”

”Why?” Dean exhales. He’s forgotten all about the fact that Gabriel is in the same room.

”Because once he’d gotten enough drinks in him he would start going after people, much like Sinclair. Don’t know how many times I threw him out.” 

Dean swallows thickly and tries to bring out a positive memory of his father; unfortunately, there aren’t that many to choose from. 

 

It takes a few hours, but eventually Dean is let out with a cast around his wrist and three tiny scars on his eyebrow where the stitches sat. The first thing he does is beg Gabriel to go and check on Cas, and is relieved to hear that he has already been let out. It’s only about half an hour left before lunch, meaning that the inmates are circling the exit to the exercise field. Dean slips past them all and head for his and Cas’s spot between the buildings, hoping that he is going to be there and terrified because he doesn’t know what he wants to say. 

Cas sits in the far corner with his knees pulled up to his chest. His eyes are closed, giving Dean time to take in his bandages and bruises, the way his hair is clotted with blood and his bottom lip split.

When Cas opens his eyes they are impossibly blue, two oceans that Dean is certain that he is going to drown in, and before Cas can speak Dean has kneeled next to him and pulled him into a tight hug.

” _Fuck_ , you scared me,” he whispers, tightening his hold as Cas’s fingers dig into the back of his shirt.

”I’m okay. I’ve had worse.” 

Dean wants to hit him, but that would be a bit counterproductive, so instead he finds himself doing the complete opposite.

He kisses him. 

 

 

**18/730**

 

Cas doesn’t sit with them at breakfast. Dean doesn’t know if he should be relieved or scared that he messed things up. 

 

 

**23/730**

 

”You’ve got to cheer up, brother. You look like someone kicked your puppy.” 

Dean waves off Benny’s words and finishes his breakfast. He is still hungry, but he tries not to think too much about that. 

They go outside, and it’s cold as fuck, and Dean even rolls the sleeves of his jumpsuit down. He and Benny and Victor walk around the field to stay warm, Victor quiet as always and Benny not much better. Every time they get close to the spot between the buildings, Dean forces himself to look away. He forces himself to not think about the kiss.

If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t really know what he was thinking. He’s not queer, no fucking way, but Cas had looked so broken and scared and Dean was just so glad that he was okay. The kiss just…sort of happened. Yeah. He’s definitely not going to think about Cas’s surprised whimper and the way he had leaned into the touch for a split second before he pulled away. Dean tries to remember if he had looked angry, grossed out or maybe, just maybe, as breathless as Dean had felt. Unfortunately (or luckily) they were interrupted by the bell that signaled that it was time for lunch, and they haven’t said a word to each other since. 

Dean’s not sure if Cas is avoiding him or if it’s the other way around, but when he sees him sitting in carpentry class with a knife in his hands, looking (gorgeous, breathtakingly beautiful) kind of sad, Dean can’t take it anymore. 

”Heya, Cas. Mind if I sit here?” 

Much like the last time Dean asked that question, Cas simply nods towards the chair next to him. Dean wonders if Cas thinks about the kiss too, but he’s afraid to ask.

”Dean-”

Dean interrupts him. ”I’m sorry, okay? It was a mistake and it won’t happen again. I’m not a fucking faggot, if that’s what you think.” 

Cas leans in closer, making Dean copy the movement unconsciously. When he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. 

”What if I am?”

”Shut up. I bet you’ve got a wife and kids, you asshole. How old are you?”

”24.”

”A girlfriend, then. Don’t fuck with me, dude.” 

”I’m not. I’m in prison, Dean. There is no one waiting for me out there, I can assure you of that,” he says bitterly, and by god, Dean believes him. 

”But…I thought your dad was religious.” 

”He is. Which he has made a point to remind me of on a regular basis.” 

”So he visits you?”

”No. He sends me letters.” 

Dean falls silent, watching him warily. He thought he could do this by himself, that he didn’t need to make friends and that the two years would pass in no time. 

Who was he kidding. He’s been here three weeks, and he’s never felt this lonely in his entire life. Maybe this is what they both need. Someone to trust. A way to blow off some steam.

”You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re into- well, _guys_.” 

Cas levels him with a long look. 

”I don’t know, maybe. Does it make a difference?”

Dean flinches back at the venom in his voice, surprised to find it aimed at him. After all, he was the one who kissed Cas. 

”Yes,” he breathes, and it’s the truth. It makes all the difference in the world. Cas squints at him but doesn’t say anything. 

”Meet me between the buildings, tomorrow. After breakfast.”

Cas stays quiet, and then Walker starts handing out pieces of wood that they are to carve into butter knives, and there’s really nothing more for them to say. 


	6. Chapter 6

**24/730**

 

Dean’s not entirely sure that Cas is going to show up. It’s been several minutes since breakfast ended and Dean was herded outside along with the rest of the inmates of C-block. He made sure no one was watching him as he slipped away between the buildings, and now all he can really do is wait. 

He opens the top button of his jumpsuit and pulls out the letter that came for him today. It’s marked with a squiggly handwriting that he recognized in an instant, and it makes something hurt behind his sternum. With shaky fingers he tears it open and pulls out the letter. 

 

_Dean,_

_I’m not going to tear you a new one, because I heard about what you did and I know why you did it. I gotta say, I’m sorry you got caught._

_I picked Sam up from school the same day and took him home, he’s been staying with me since. Don’t worry about him. He’s doing good. He even shot his first deer yesterday, can you believe it?_

_I haven’t heard from John since before he bailed on you last month. Just-_

_You should have come to me, son. You must know that I would have helped you._

_I guess it doesn’t matter now._

_Stay out of trouble._

_Bobby_

 

Dean clutches the letter in his hand and blinks away a few tears. 

”Damn it,” he whispers underneath his breath, wiping a hand across his face but it does nothing to soothe him. Damn Bobby for always being there. Damn dad for leaving them alone without any money. 

He slams a fist against the wall just as a figure squeezes into the space, and Dean barely registers that it’s Cas and that he’s saying something. He just hits the wall again and even slams the cast against it, shaken by the pain but he needs it too much to give a fuck. 

”Dean, stop. You’re hurting yourself,” Cas urges, and when he wraps his arms around him Dean does nothing to fight him off. He is shaking, his body a useless shell and he should pull himself together, but honestly he doesn’t want to. A part of him knows that he just needs to get this out. 

”It’s okay,” Cas whispers. He is still holding him tightly. 

Seconds, minutes later, Dean clears his throat. Cas gets the message and lets go of him, however his hand lingers on his arm for just a moment longer. 

”What happened?”

”It’s my brother,” Dean sighs, feeling the weight of the word against his lips.

Cas’s eyebrows crinkle together and Dean gets the urge to smooth them out. ”Is he alright?”

”Yeah, he’s fine. It’s nothing, really. I just-”

He shouldn’t tell anyone about this, especially not Cas, quiet, gentle Cas who makes crosses in carpentry because he needs his dad to forgive him. Dean groans. 

”I’m here because I broke into a house.”

”You told me,” Cas confirms. 

”I didn’t tell you why. My dad, he- um, he’s got some issues. My mom died when I was little, so he’s had it rough. Raising the two of us on his own, and all. Anyways, every now and then it all just became too much for him, you know? He’d drop us off with some family friends, or leave us at a motel with some cash for food while he went out. Only for a day or two, not more. Until…” Dean holds back a wrecking sob and if it weren’t for Cas’s hand on his arm, he would have fallen apart for now.

”A few months ago. He left without saying anything, which was fine. But he took the car and I guess he forgot to leave us money. I had a job, but they refused to pay me early and we went days, almost two weeks without food. Sam was in school so he got to eat there, so he was fine.”

”But not you,” Cas says quietly, and Dean hears the worry, the pity in his voice and he hates it.

”We needed money, and fast. I didn’t know what else to do. So I broke into a house and took everything, food, jewelry, cash. The police got me the next day.” 

”I’m sorry.” Cas looks like he means it. 

”Yeah, me too. But sorry ain’t gonna get me out of here.” 

He says it bitterly, but Cas still smiles. ”How long? Till you get out?”

”Sentence was two years, so that’s one year and 49 weeks. How about you?” 

”A little less than that for me.”

Huh. The thought that Cas could be getting out before Dean had never occurred to him. That he’s not the only one with a life waiting for him beyond the bars. 

”Why did you kiss me?” Cas asks suddenly, and it takes Dean by surprise. Enough for him to answer truthfully.

”Because I wanted to.” 

”Do you want to do it again?” 

Dean doesn’t have to be asked twice. He practically lunges at him, pushing him against the wall and slamming their lips together, all unguarded want and desperation. Cas gives back equally, his tongue eagerly prodding against Dean’s lips and they make filthy, wet sounds and Dean just wants more. 

Dean has never kissed a man before, but he’s thought about it. The feel of stubble scraping against his skin, strong hands grabbing his shoulders and tugging at short hair instead of dragging his fingers through long waves. 

At once, Cas is everything Dean never knew that he wanted, and it’s almost too much. He breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath, resting their foreheads together. When he tries to make out Cas’s features all he can see is a blurry mess of blue eyes and spit-slick lips. 

”I want- I need you to- please, Dean,” Cas whines, reaching for his lips again and when Dean reciprocates, Cas nudges his hips forwards and Dean can feel the hard outline of his dick. It catches him by surprise and he has to stop to think for a second. 

Does he want this? Judging by the heat and discomfort in his groin he would say yes, but he’s still not sure. Kissing a guy is one thing, but-

Cas starts licking his way down Dean’s throat, and he forgets everything that he was supposed to think about. With a growl he rocks his hips forwards and meets Cas halfway, their erections lining up and it shoots sharp pleasure along Dean’s spine. He places his hands on the wall on either side of Cas’s head, ignoring the pain in his broken wrist, and leans down for a kiss as he continues rocking his hips, a moan slipping out as Cas pushes back. 

Cas’s fingers find their way to the buttons of Dean’s jumpsuit and opens it up enough to get his hands on his skin, fingernails digging into his back and Dean’s hips stutter at the pleasurable pain of it. He suddenly wants to touch all of Cas, not just his mouth and his hair and his neck, and so he fumbles with the buttons by Cas’s neck without success.

”Goddamn jumpsuits,” he mutters, gaining a low chuckle in response as Cas helps him. They both shrug out of the top half of the orange monstrosities, left in nothing but thin t-shirts as a shield against the cold. That doesn’t really matter, though. They are keeping each other warm. 

Dean takes his time to run his hands along Cas’s back, lips never parting, and he works his way lower and lower until his fingers slip beneath his underwear and he grabs a handful of his ass. Cas’s smooth kissing falters and his breath hitches in the most delicious way. 

”Dean, we’re-” he tries, voice slipping away as Dean starts to suck beneath his ear, sadly not hard enough to leave a mark.

”Dean,” Cas tries again.

”What?”

”What if someone hears us? Or sees us?”

Dean replies by squeezing his ass and using his leverage to pull Cas closer, both of them groaning as their erections crash together.

”I don’t really give a fuck,” he growls, biting down hard on Cas’s collarbone. 

After that, there’s no stopping them. 

The kiss dissolves into breathing into each other’s mouths, foreheads and noses colliding as Dean shoves Cas’s underwear out of the way and takes him in his hand. He finds a drop of precome that he spreads out over Cas’s member, tugging and jerking and twisting his hand on the upstroke. He needs more, however, so he pushes his own underwear out of the way and once their cocks are lined up next to each other with nothing separating them, Cas exhales blissfully.

”Dean,” he sighs, head falling back against the wall and Dean follows, their foreheads still pressed together. Agonizingly slowly they start rocking against each other, cocks slipping in and out of Dean’s hand with just the right amount of pressure to drive them both insane. Without a single coherent thought in mind, Dean slips his other hand around to Cas’s ass again, letting a finger slide down his crack and all it takes is a push against his rim for Cas to come. 

His breath catches in the most tantalizing way. Dean makes sure to watch how his mouth opens up to an ”o” as he orgasms, hips slowing down and tensing up and when he grabs the back of Dean’s neck to pull him in for a kiss, Dean is pushed over the edge as well. 

It is not until they start cleaning up the mess they’ve made that Dean realizes the full extent of what they’ve done. 

”Cas-”

”I know.”

”I’m serious.”

”I know.” 

Their eyes lock and somehow Dean finds himself trusting this man that he barely knows. They kiss again, just because they can, and then they sit a respectable three feet apart and Dean tells him more about his family than he’s ever told anyone. 

He tells him about how violent John became sometimes when he was drunk. He tells him about basically raising his kid brother because no one else was going to do it. He tells him about Bobby, _fucking_ Bobby who somehow always knew when the boys needed a break from their father. He tells him everything and Cas listens with a serene look on his face and he’s the most beautiful man Dean has ever laid eyes on.

 

 

**26/730**

 

They meet up and Dean gives Cas a blowjob that’s intense enough for Dean to come before he’s even finished. Cas kisses him and Dean tells him that he always wanted to get a dog. When Cas reveals that he’s more of a cat person, Dean wrinkles his nose and says something he should not have said.

”We are not getting a cat.”

Cas just smiles at him. 

 

 

**32/730**

 

Cas tells him that he’s never delivered a blowjob. Dean comes after the four most agonizingly intense minutes of his life. 

 

 

**33/730**

 

They have time for a quick mutual handjob before the bell rings and they’re called off to lunch. Cas sits across from Dean and when the fucker starts playing footsie with him, Dean flicks salad at his face. It all escalates into a full-blown food war that Gabriel grudgingly shuts down. 

 

 

**35/730**

 

Dean ends up in the hospital again. He should have known better than to forget about Alastair and all the crap he brings around with him, but being with Cas makes him _happy_. They are having more sex than Dean has had since high school, and in ten days Dean has learned that Cas likes it rough, that his ass is extremely sensitive and that getting your nipples kissed is a huge turn-on. 

Ten days without a single fight must be some kind of record, one that Dean unfortunately breaks. The thing is, Dean doesn’t necessarily _want_ to fight Alastair, but every time the guy goes after someone the only thing Dean can see is his brother being pushed to the ground when he was nine, and he sees red. 

Alastair is not stupid - he goes after Dean’s wrist, incapacitating him in less than two seconds, and then he can basically kick him into the dirt until the wardens decide that he’s had enough. 

This time, Ellen really does smack his head. 

”Ellen!” Dean whines, but she just grabs his chin and gives him a scolding look that has Gabriel chuckling from behind the desk.

”You listen to me, young man. If you don’t give your wrist time to heal up properly, it’s gonna be crippling you for the rest of your life. He- oh jesus christ-” Ellen whispers underneath her breath when she carefully twists the cast around to assess the damage. ”He cracked the cast. I’m gonna have to re-set it.”

”You should be glad that Dean-o’s keeping you busy, Harvelle. Without him, you’d be out of a job,” Gabriel teases, and Dean can’t help but laugh when Ellen flips him off. 

”You’ve been here nine times in 35 days. It’s real bad, Dean. I expect more from you.” 

Ouch. He did not see that one coming. 

Gabriel continues, ”I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Harvelle. This has got to stop.”

”I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s not like he’s just suddenly gonna stop bullying people.” 

”We know. But you can stop defending them. This ain’t the schoolyard, Dean. It’s prison. The guys in here can take care of themselves.” 

Dean hates that they are right. 

”I don’t want to do this, but I’m putting you both in isolation. Five days. Don’t interrupt me,” Gabriel says sharply as Dean opens his mouth. ”If I punish him and not you it’s gonna look bad. Maybe you’ll both learn a lesson.” 

_Five days_.

The first thing that comes to mind is the fact that it’s going to be five days until he gets to see Cas again, which hurts more than he thought it would.

 

 

**36/730**

 

Dean can’t sleep. He’s been alone for more than twenty-four hours now, and his mind is imploding on him. With no one there to distract him, he starts thinking too much, and when he thinks too much his dad comes to mind and with it all the ugly words that have been thrown at him through the years.

_I asked you to do one thing: look after Sammy. Why can’t you do anything right?_

_You listen to me, son, and you do what you’re told. This is a dictatorship._

_I wish you were more like Sam._

_I’m disappointed in you, son. I thought better of you._

The memories are yelling at him and Dean can’t seem to make them stop.

 

 

**37/730**

 

He does crunches to pass the time. It’s stupid and a waste of energy since they only feed him twice a day, but he has to do _something_.

 

 

**38/730**

 

He doesn’t even bother getting out of bed. His food stays untouched and when the warden yells at him to eat, he turns his back towards the door. 

 

 

**39/730**

 

He dreams of Cas. Of a different world, one without controlling fathers and homophobia, one where they bumped into each other and had a coffee and pie and Cas never stopped looking at his lips. 

Dean realizes, with a start, that he is way more involved in this than he thought he ever would be. 


	7. Chapter 7

**40/730**

 

Gabriel is the one who lets him out, and when he takes in Dean’s state he actually looks a bit rueful.

”Sorry. Make sure I don’t have to do it again.” 

”Yeah, whatever. Can I go?” 

”It’s dinnertime.” 

”I’m not hungry.”

”I don’t care.” 

Dean looks up at Gabriel and is met by a smirk that eases the tension from his shoulders. Today, dinner includes being around people, and Dean needs it desperately.

Gabriel takes him to the cafeteria where he gets in line and they serve him a plate of rice and some brown sauce that probably had meat in it at one point, and when Dean approaches his friends Benny scoots to the side to make room for him, Garth offers him a consoling smile, Victor meets his eyes and Cas-

Goddamnit, Cas just takes his breath away. His hair is mussed and disheveled and his eyes are more blue than ever, and he is so fucking beautiful.

Before Dean can do something stupid (like, for instance, jump Cas right then and there), he takes the seat next to Benny and hides a smile as Cas nudges his toes with his shoe. 

He looks up to ask why no one is talking, but gets it the moment he lays eyes on Victor again. The guy looks just about ready to shatter.

”What happened?” 

Garth is the one to speak up when it’s become clear that Victor isn’t going to say anything. ”The trial was yesterday. He was found guilty.” 

Shit.

Dean has only heard bits and pieces of Victor’s story (because honestly, the guy isn’t very talkative), but one thing is undoubtedly true - Victor is innocent. 

There was a bomb, that much Dean knows, placed at a train station at rush hour and apparently it killed almost a hundred people. When he first heard it, Dean was just about ready to kick his ass, however Garth explained the facts and the horror in Victor’s voice when he told them about being arrested was enough for Dean to believe him. 

Too bad the judges didn’t. 

Dean isn’t exactly close to Victor, but the guy is nice enough and there is not even a point in asking how he will be punished.

A mass murder of that scale can only mean one thing - execution. All at once, Dean is grateful that he only ended up in isolation when it could have been so much worse, and pissed off because this place is unfair and horrible and practically hell on earth, and Dean is powerless against the judges who decide their fate. 

The only thing he can do is crack an ill-timed joke that makes them laugh and bleeds the tension from their veins until they can all go back to pretending that Victor is going to be fine. 

 

Wednesdays are shower days for C-block. They’re all lined up after dinner with their towels and honest-to-god shampoo, and the line creeps forwards slowly as the ten showers are being used. 

Once it’s Dean’s turn, he makes sure to take his time. There is still some blood and grit stuck in his hair after that time Alastair split the skin on his head with a rock.

To be honest, Dean is getting tired of this fight. Alastair has no real purpose except for causing chaos and delivering pain, and it’s growing old real quick. 

Dean doesn’t know what to do.

The shower stalls go up to waist-height, and they’re not exactly private, and Dean is surprisingly grateful that Cas was nowhere near him in line. Seeing him get naked and wet and scrub himself clean…Dean is not sure what might have happened. 

After the showers Dean heads back to his cell where he finds that Benny is already asleep. If there’s one thing he has noticed about his cellmate, it is that it’s almost impossible to wake him once he’s out. Once, Dean accidentally kicked him when he was climbing up to the top bunk, but got no reaction whatsoever. 

Just as he’s coming up with various ways to test just how heavy a sleeper Benny is, something hard hits the back of his head and he finds himself dropping to the ground with no way to cushion the fall. His knees take the brunt of it, then his palms and his face, and the wind is knocked straight out of his lungs. 

”What the-” is all he manages to say before a well-aimed kick knocks him out.

He comes back for a few seconds when someone lifts him up into his bed, and he wonders what the hell is going on. His head hits the pillow and a fist connects with the side of his head, and he blacks out. 

 

**42/730**

 

”Hey, cowboy. Thought we’d lost you for a while there,” a kind voice says, and Dean looks up into Gabriel’s warm, brown eyes. Dean grunts some incoherent string of words and tries to sit up, quickly deciding against it when nausea swells his gut and a sharp pain in his side makes him hiss and breathe through gritted teeth.

”You’re lucky you’ve got a cellmate who looks out for you,” Ellen chimes in, and Dean can focus on her. Her hair is pulled back in a bun and she looks tired, however her eyes are gentle. ”I’m glad you’re okay.” 

”I’m a goddamn inmate, isn’t there some rule saying that you can’t get attached to us?” Dean mutters, pulling his good hand up to shield his eyes from the light. Everything is so _bright_.

Ellen laughs softly at his words and pats his on the shoulder. ”Good to hear that you’re brain is still working. Now, stay in bed, and stay calm. You’ve got multiple broken ribs and a severe concussion. This isn’t something you just walk away from.” She fusses a bit with his blankets and touches a light hand on his shin. ”I’ve got to go check on my other patients. Get some rest.” 

Dean nods and she is away. Gabriel stays, however, and he knows what Dean is going to ask before he has even opened his mouth. 

”Benny Lafitte is sure that it was Alastair and Adler, working together. Don’t ask me why. If it was a way for Alastair to get back at your for ending up in isolation, it sure as hell didn’t work out.”

”Why’s that?” Dean forces himself to ask.

Gabriel just smirks. ”Because I tossed their asses straight back in there.” 

”My hero,” Dean grunts, and it gains him a soft laugh. 

”Yeah, something like that. Now, it’s strictly against protocol to leave inmates alone in hospital without supervision, but I’ve gotta take a dump. A long one. About fifteen minutes, I’d say.” 

”What-”

Gabriel turns his back on him, and as he opens the door to leave, another figure comes inside. 

”Hello, Dean,” he says, and it just melts Dean’s insides. 

”Fifteen minutes,” Gabriel warns, and then he’s off.

”How are you?” Cas asks gently as he takes a seat on the edge of Dean’s bed. Dean gets an urge to hold his hand but that’s not something that they do.

”Honestly? I feel like crap. But I’ll live.” 

”I’m glad you can be honest with me.” 

Dean snorts. ”Yeah, I figured I wouldn’t be able to fool you anyways. What kind of leverage do you have over Gabriel to sneak in here?”

Cas glances over his shoulder at the door, as if he hadn’t considered the question earlier. ”We are cousins. Gabriel has two brothers locked up in here, Michael and Lucifer.”

”I heard about those guys.” Dean frowns and tries to recall who told him the names and- ”Son of a bitch, Gabriel fucking warned me about them. What’s that all about?” 

”They, uh, are a bit more experienced than Alastair when it comes to making life hell for others and getting away with it. Alastair is here for life because he murdered his wife, Michael and Lucifer got 15 years after killing several police officers in a car chase. Those two can talk their way out of anything.” 

”And they’re your cousins?” 

”I have a big family,” Cas says shortly, as if that justifies the fact that his cousins are murderers. 

”Man, I bet you were the favorite kid at family dinners,” Dean mutters, barely knowing where that came from. Cas’s face, however, tells him that it was the exact opposite. 

Dean swallows with a click. Cas doesn’t look at him. ”Sorry,” he mumbles, wondering what good it can actually do. At least Cas takes his hand, so that’s a plus (or is it? They don’t hold hands, do they?).

Gabriel is a good man, though. Always has been,” Cas sighs, his thoughts far, far away and Dean would like to pull him back.

”He’s an ass.” 

Cas actually laughs at that, and finally, _finally_ he meets Dean’s eyes.

”I won’t argue with you on that point. But at least he is on the right side of the bars.” 

Dean can’t hold the question back anymore. ”What the hell did you do, Cas? What are you doing in here?”

There’s that sad smile on his lips again, the one that Dean would like to remove with a kiss but moving is not an option at the moment. 

”Nothing good. But I can’t- I won’t tell you.” 

”Why?” Dean is pushing his luck and he knows it. However Cas just sighs and leans in closer.

”Because you wouldn’t look at me the same way if you knew.”

”And how do I look at you now?”

”Like this,” Cas breathes, reaching his hands up to thumb at Dean’s eyelids until he gets it and closes them. And this time when Cas leans in for a kiss, it’s sweet an unexpected and surprisingly soft. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm sorry, I guess, because for some reason Dean just ends up getting hurt over and over again but I don't really know how to stop, *woopsie*
> 
> Hope you like it and thank you for all the sweet comments xx

**43/730**

 

”It’s just not fair, that’s all,” Dean snaps for what must be the tenth time. Gabriel sighs heavily and tosses a newspaper back on the little table next to Dean’s bed, the sign that he is now actually going to add something to the conversation. Before he does, however, Ellen interrupts.

”I don’t know what to tell you, sweetie. Prison was never meant to be fair. I’m sorry.” 

Victor is being executed four days from now. Dean can’t quite wrap his head around it.

Gabriel continues, ”Besides, he never stood a chance anyways. Those judges are the most racist sons of bitches I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. It’s just the way things are.” 

”Well, it sucks,” Dean bites off. Ellen gives him a sad, understanding smile and affectionately pats the side of his head. 

”It’s not the first time something like this happens. And it won’t be the last. Some things just take time to change.”

 

Cas is allowed to visit him that night, and it’s wonderful. The matter of _why_ he is there is something that Dean purposely does _not_ think about. Instead, he enjoys Cas’s warm lips and sweet smile. 

 

 

**47/730**

 

Dean doesn’t get to see him again. They let him out of the hospital that night, and when he locates Benny, Garth and Cas in the cafeteria, their expressions are all slightly strained. 

”As I said, Dean. There’s nothing about this place that’s fair,” Garth says, and Benny just nods along. Dean can only hope that the rest of them will get out of this in one piece. Before he sits down, Cas gives him a strange look that he can’t quite decipher, and he can only hope that whatever crime Cas comitted, it wasn’t bad enough to grant him the same end as Victor.

 

 

**48/730**

 

They bury him on the far end of the exercise field. There’s a patch of grass that goes around the wall, six feet wide, and it makes Dean wonder just how many bodies he has walked over. 

The soil is wet and muddy and there is something about the perfect square of darkness in the middle of the lush grass that is absolutely heartbreaking. They haven’t even made a headstone.

Dean finds a loose rock in the soil and uses it to carve the letters V.H. into the wall above Victor’s head. Much like when he wrote his name in the cubicle on his first day, he feels the need to do this for Victor. For people to remember him, years from now. 

 

 

**121/730**

 

They haven’t fucked yet, but considering the lack of privacy and Cas’s quickly gained blowjob skills, Dean doesn’t really mind. It can wait until after, because Dean is going to make damn sure that they get an ”after”. Cas is too important to him. 

Michael and Lucifer though, _jesus christ_. If Dean wasn’t so keen on getting out of prison, he would have killed them already. 

After Alastair pulled the midnight stunt that put Dean in hospital for nearly a week, he was transferred to D-block. Considering the rumors that Gabriel passes on, Dean is fucking glad that he doesn’t have to deal with the guy anymore, while at the same time he’s kind of sorry for the rest of the inmates in D-block. They’re mostly low-class criminals, credit card scams, identity thefts and that sort of thing. Compared to the murderers and rapists of C-block, D-block is a goddamn kindergarten. 

Following Alastair’s transfer, things were unusually quiet for a few days. They had time to get used to the patch of soil in the exercise field and the lack of Victor’s silent presence in the cafeteria. 

Then, as if waiting for things to get too quiet, Michael and Lucifer made their move. Apparently the relationship between Cas and his cousins was far worse than Cas had let on. Cas goes back and forth from the hospital to isolation, which pisses Dean off because the guy never fights back and certainly doesn’t deserve being punished for it, however Gabriel is adamant about his rule that all participants in fights end up in isolation. 

On the plus side, both Cas and Dean are so sexually frustrated by the time they get to touch each other that Dean ends up having some of the dirtiest, hottest sex in his life - but on the downside, Cas’s body is constantly littered with bruises no matter how hard Dean tries to keep him out of the fights. 

He ends up in isolation a few times too, much to Cas’s dismay. 

After a particularly intense orgasm, Dean accidentally puts too much pressure on Cas’s ribs and has to hide his damaged pride when Cas flinches away from him. 

”The fuck, man, is there a single part of your body that isn’t covered with bruises?” Dean bites off angrily. Cas just gives him a stern look. ”I’m serious. We have to make this stop.”

”And how do you suggest we do that? Just let them be, Dean. They need to get it out of their system.”

”Get _what_ out of their- oh no, you asshole. Don’t walk away from me.” Cas had just abruptly turned his back to Dean, and is now being hauled back to the space between the buildings by his elbow. ”What the fuck do they want?”

”I don’t know.”

Dean doesn’t believe him. 

”What if we ask Gabriel-”

”No,” Cas says firmly, effectively banning that idea. ”Gabriel has already done too much. I won’t put his career in danger.”

”But _you_ are in danger, Cas. _You_ are the one that ends up getting hurt.” 

( _Me too_ , Dean thinks, but he can’t say it.)

Cas gives him a shrug that tells him that he just doesn’t care, and if that doesn’t hurt more than any punches that Michael can throw at him. That hidden look of sorrow in Cas’s eyes is there again, one that Dean has been fighting to remove but he _can’t_ , he just _can’t_ , and it breaks something inside of him to see this man hurting from the inside and out, and he pulls Cas closer and smashes their lips together. 

This, he thinks. This is where things will start going downhill. Because he is completely head over heels for this fucking criminal and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. 

 

 

**136/730**

 

Cas joins them for breakfast after being stuck in isolation for three days, and Dean can’t stop looking at him.

More specifically, he can’t stop looking on the angry gash on his forehead that is surrounded by dried blood, in a way that tells him that Ellen has most definitely not tended to it.

”Cas-”

”Castiel, are you alright?” Garth interrupts with his loud and squeaky voice, and Dean can’t hate him for it because Garth is actually kind of cool. 

”I’m fine,” Cas says shortly, already exchanging his and Dean’s plates. 

”That cut on your forehead tells a different story,” Benny mutters quietly, but Dean can see the way his and Cas’s eyes meet for a second. Dean follows their silent conversation and when Cas just barely nods, he gets to his feet and slams a palm on the table. 

”What the _fuck_ is going on?” he snaps, and Gabriel takes a warning step towards them but stops when Dean sends him a murdering look. 

”Dean-” Cas tries, but Benny beats him to it.

”Before you and Alastair started up your little macho showdown, the Milligan brothers were after Castiel here on a regular basis. Much like now.”

”It’s been going on since I first got here,” Cas adds, and there is something in his voice that makes Dean’s chest ache because he has no idea for how long Cas has actually been in prison.

”So? What’s that got to do with this?” he hurries to say before he does something stupid, like, _cry_ or some shit like that. Benny and Cas look at each other again and apparently Benny notices Dean’s angry exhale because he holds up a placating hand.

”When I’d only been here a few days or so, they jumped him. All three were put in isolation. And when he got out, well…”

”That warden over there, Adler,” Cas says, nodding towards the balding man that Dean recognizes as the one who never paid any attention to the fights out on the exercise field. ”They bribed him in some way and were allowed into my cell. Knocked me out and beat me.” His voice is neutral as he retells the memory, his gaze focused on something beyond Dean’s right shoulder. ”And I ended up getting ten stitches on my scalp and a few on my arm. They did the same thing last night, but-”

Dean doesn’t hear the end of that sentence. He is already half-way across the cafeteria to where he can see Michael and Lucifer huddled together eating their breakfast, and Michael barely has time to look up before Dean grabs a handful of his jumpsuit and basically lifts him out of his seat, letting him drop heavily to the floor. Lucifer is next. Dean gets his arm around his neck and grabs him in a headlock, and every part of him is _screaming_ at him to tear his fucking head off because he hurt Cas, he bullied him and hit him and he deserves this, but he still hesitates and it’s enough for Michael to regain his footing. While considering how to best knock both of them down, Michael makes a move towards the table and before Dean can stop him he’s got a spoon in his hand, the handle turned towards Dean like a weapon. Other inmates have gathered around and are keeping the wardens from reaching them.

Good. 

Dean needs to finish this. 

He lets go of Lucifer and pushes him firmly towards Michael, making both of them lose their bearing for a second. Quickly, he grabs two trays from an emptied table and smacks one on each brother’s head, incapacitating them further, but then it seems as if his luck runs out. He catches a glimpse of Cas in the crowd, desperately trying to get through, and it’s enough for Lucifer to charge at him and stab his side with the spoon. It may be a piss-poor excuse of a weapon, but Dean still feels it tearing through his skin and dig deep into his flesh. He kicks a foot out into Lucifer’s stomach, but while one brother stumbles backwards, the other goes forwards and knocks Dean to the ground with a punch. They start working together then, Lucifer holding back Dean’s clenched fists while Michael crushes his face and chest and stomach with steel-toed kicks. 

Things get blurry while Dean fights to break free of their hold, and he doesn’t really care if this is it, if this is when he dies, because all he cares about is seeing Cas one last time and he is sad to find that his eyes won’t cooperate. 

Michael hits him again but stops abruptly, because suddenly a familiar voice interrupts and pulls the fists away, and Dean chokes on blood. 

”Get off him,” the voice yells sharply, and- 

Gabriel, that’s Gabriel’s voice. 

”Gabe-” Dean tries, but he coughs and tries to find his breath. 

”You’re alright, brother,” a booming voice says, and Dean finds comfort in Benny’s hands on his shoulders. 

”Everyone, back the fuck off!” another voice yells. Dean almost laughs because he would kill to see Ellen push her way through a crowd of riled-up inmates. 

”The fuck r’ you doin’ here,” he slurs, wincing against the sudden light hitting his eyes when Ellen pries his eyelids open. 

”How else am I supposed to get to see you?” she says softly, prodding at his face and Dean shies away from her fingers.

”Oh my god. Fuck. _Shit_. Is he- how- shit, Dean, oh god-”

There’s the voice that Dean was searching for. Cas sounds stressed and panicked in a way Dean has never heard before, and it worries him to the point where he manages to lift a hand enough for Cas to see and grab it. 

”What were you _thinking_ , you _idiot_ , they could have _killed_ you and-”

”S’okay, Cas,” he splutters out, even as his chest constricts in a funny way and he suddenly loses his breath completely. Ellen seems to notice instantly, because she takes a firm hold of his face and forces him to focus on her.

”Tell me where it hurts the worst, sweetie, help me out.”

He tries to speak, fails miserably to do so, and uses the hand that Cas is gripping tightly to gesture towards his chest. Strong fingers tear his jumpsuit open and he feels something cold against his skin along with the sound of scissors cutting. 

”What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Cas asks, ignored by just about everyone. Dean feels his chest being exposed and hears a few sharp intakes of breath, but it’s getting hard to sort through his senses because he _can’t breathe_ -

”He’s not _breathing_ ,” Cas groans, and then Ellen speaks up sharply.

”Gabriel, get him out of here.”

”Yes sir!” 

Cas’s hand disappears from Dean’s grasp, along with distressed words. ”No, I need to stay. Why are you doing this, Gabe, please let me-”

”I’m going to cut a hole in his chest and you’re distracting me. Now get out!” 

Dean wonders briefly if anyone else is still in the cafeteria, and if they realize just how attached Dean and Castiel have become. 

”This is going to hurt, sweetie,” Ellen says, only to him, and then there’s a sharp pain in his side. However it’s nothing compared to the sting when she pushes something against the cut and Dean hunches forwards, choking on his tongue but someone is holding him back 

”Stay still,” Benny urges, and Dean _tries_ but it _hurts_ and-

The pressure on his lungs gradually slips away and he takes a heavy, wheezing breath. 

”That’s it,” Ellen soothes, running a hand along his arm. 

”Cas-” Dean exhales, and he feels Ellen’s hesitation.

”Who-?”

”Novak,” Benny explains. ”Gabriel walked away with him. He’s fine.” 

Dean finds himself nodding, and gradually, he drifts off.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I may have just written 2000 words of pure smut. Enjoy...?

**142/730**

 

Being in hospital is boring as fuck, but at least it’s better than isolation. Dean was told that Michael and Lucifer got a week each, and that this time, Gabriel had made sure that the warden Adler was not put on any night shifts. 

Of course, Dean now knows what having a collapsed lung feels like, and he knows that it’s bad enough that he never wants to experience it again, so he’s going to try to be better. Less fighting, if he can help it. The pure panic in Cas’s voice is something that he never wants to hear again. 

When Gabriel finally comes to see him, it’s been days. 

”Where the fuck have you been?” Dean asks before he can fully take in Gabriel’s face. When he does, the smile on his face fades and he swallows thickly.

Gabriel has a mighty cut on his cheek, going from his cheekbone and down past the edge of his jaw. It’s red and angry-looking and gives Gabriel a tough kind of look that doesn’t suit him. 

”Yeah, I won’t be winning any more beauty contests,” Gabriel says off-handedly, and Dean has to blink hard a few times to tear his eyes away.

”Michael?”

”Lucifer, actually. My brothers have never been the cuddly types.”

”Your brothers,” Dean says quietly, only now remembering that Cas told him this, a while back. Shit. _His brothers_.

”Like, literally your brothers?” Dean asks, and it puts a smile on Gabriel’s face.

”Yeah. Can’t you tell?” 

Dean rolls his eyes. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did two days ago.

”I-” he tries, but he can’t seem to get the words out. Whatever Gabriel did to gain that cut, it had something to do with saving Dean’s ass. He’s unbelievably grateful but can’t seem to get the words out.

”Let’s just skip the whole you-cry-I-cry-and-we-hug-it-out-moment,” Gabriel says with a wince. Dean nods sharply in agreement. 

”Good. Now, tell me. How long have you been shagging my cousin?” 

Dean just stares at him, face completely blank while his mind goes a mile a minute.

_HowdidhefindoutfuckwhatdoIdowhatdoIsayfuckfuckfuckfuck_

Gabriel looks extremely amused. Just as Dean thinks that maybe, maybe he’s just playing with him, Gabriel pulls out a tube that could have been toothpaste but Dean instantly knows that it’s not. 

”Ah, to be young and in love.” He jiggles the tube a little before placing it on the table next to the bed. ”Seeing as you’re just a kid and Cassie isn’t very experienced when it comes to, uh, _relationships_ , let me tell you this - if it hurts, you probably ain’t doing it right-”

” _Shut the fuck up_ ,” Dean says through gritted teeth, feeling the blush spread on his cheeks while Gabriel seems to be having the time of his life. 

”Let me just tell you that I have never done anything like this before, and you’re goddamn special to deserve this kind of treat. But Cassie cares about you, in a way he has never really cared for anyone. Call me a sap and a romantic, but he needs this. He needs you. I have a feeling you might need him to.” There’s a brief pause, then he adds, ”How are you feeling?” 

”Embarrassed,” Dean grunts, but the way Gabriel shakes his head makes him realize that he’s talking more about his physical wellbeing. ”I’m alright, I guess. I mean, it’s been a week. Ribs still hurt like a bitch but I don’t think I’ll be falling down dead anytime soon.” 

”Good. Don’t ask me why I’m doing this, maybe I have a soft spot for my cousin but he’s been begging me all week to get some alone time with you. I mean, seriously, sometimes I feel like I’m working at some goddamn care home and not a prison, but sure, I can hand away favors whenever I feel like it, and-”

”Gabriel, you’re rambling.”

”Right. I’m on the night shift watching the hospital tonight. And after I let Cas inside, this door will be locked and undisturbed till morning. Then I’m going to lock up and let you back to the cafeteria to have breakfast.”

”Gabe-”

”I thought we agreed on not having any heartfelt confessions.”

”Thank you. Seriously.”

”Yeah. I think I’m going soft in my older years.” He clears his throat and gets to his feet awkwardly, a smile playing on his lips as he reaches the door. ”Uh, have a fun evening, I guess? If I hear any screams I promise I won’t-”

”Just get out,” Dean barks, and Gabriel seems relieved to do so. The door stays open only a sliver and Dean can hear hushed voices outside. Only seconds later, the door opens further and Cas slips inside, and every little ounce of worry and pain in Dean’s mind vanishes because _damn it_ , he is so beautiful. 

”Heya, Cas,” Dean whispers. He can see the faint outline of a brush on Cas’s cheeks, and smiles as he realizes that Gabriel probably had the same embarrassing talk with him. He wonders fleetingly if Cas really is as inexperienced as Gabriel hinted at, but quickly discards that thought. 

”Did Gabriel-”

”Yeah, he did,” Dean winces, but Cas offers a lopsided grin. 

”He’s always looked out for me,” Cas says, as if that would explain anything. As he stands about a little awkwardly, Dean realizes that Cas is nervous, and he can’t fathom why. They’ve done so many filthy, dirty things already that nothing should freak them out anymore. Hell, there was a time when Cas’s dick was so far down Dean’s throat that his nose was buried in pubes. 

This feels different, though. Private, and a bit tense because of the tube of lube on Dean’s bedside table. 

When Cas finally gains enough courage to approach the bed and actually touch him, Dean pretends that they are in a completely different place. In a wide, soft bed, maybe in a hotel somewhere. Anywhere but here, where there is nothing but violence and hatred and terrible, horrible crimes that can’t possibly be atoned for by being locked away from the outside world. 

”Cas, I-” Dean tries, but he ends up licking his lips instead. Cas seems to get it, because he is slowly unbuttoning his jumpsuit and as he pushes it off his legs completely, instead of letting it pool around his knees, Dean has to close his eyes. 

”Look at me,” Cas whispers, a soft wish more than the demand it could have been. Dean obeys. And it’s worth it, because Cas’s eyes are a brilliant blue that almost hurts to look at. 

Cas continues undressing, completely comfortable in his nakedness as he climbs onto the bed and basically straddles Dean’s hips. It has Dean all tingly and short of breath and his hands barely function when he raises them to rest on Cas’s thighs. 

”Help me get out of this fucking gown,” Dean says, and they laugh a little as Cas reaches around him to untie the back of the hospital gown before he rips it off. It’s the first time they get complete skin-on-skin contact, and Dean revels in it. Cas is just so _warm_ as he reaches forwards to press a kiss against his lips, hands roaming along Dean’s sides and up to his neck and Dean shivers underneath his touch. 

Dean arches up into the kiss and squeezes Cas’s thighs a little harder, completely at his mercy. He hasn’t even started thinking about the heat in his groin yet, all he can do is focus on breathing as Cas touches every inch of him, sharp fingernails followed by smooth palms, the alteration maddening. If Dean wasn’t so worried about minding his ribs, he would have tossed them around already and pressed Cas down on the bed. For now, all he can do is enjoy Cas’s soft touches. 

The kiss breaks and Cas’s lips continue mapping their way along Dean’s jaw, reaching that spot behind his ear that makes Dean tense up in all the right ways and he lets out a deep groan. Cas stops for a moment but continues when Dean tangles a hand into his hair.

”Feels so good, Cas, keep going,” Dean mumbles, goading him on. As he continues further down his throat and ends up sucking and biting at Dean’s clavicle, it almost becomes too much. Cas just keeps going. He sucks down on his nipple - his _nipple_ \- and Dean fucking _whimpers_ , because Cas has touched him there before but not like _this_. 

”Cas-” he groans, breaths turning ragged and uncontrolled and he has to almost pull Cas away by his hair to get him to listen. 

”What’s wrong?” 

”Cas, I need to touch you but you’re being distracting,” Dean gets out, and it earns him a quiet chuckle. 

”Go on then,” he says, voice brave like never before and Dean loves it. 

Dean swallows hard, suddenly a bit shy underneath Cas’s warm gaze, but he can do this. He can pull the black hair into a kiss that has them both gasping for air and run his hands all the way down Cas’s back, past the point where fabric would usually separate them and grab a handful of his ass. Cas’s lips falter against his and they end up not doing much more than breathing each other’s air as Dean slips his fingers down his ass, reaching down until he reaches his fluttering rim. Cas pushes back against his finger, and Dean can’t help but follow the movement by pushing his hips up until their dicks bump together, both of them hissing at the friction. 

Unlike the last time Dean tried fingering him, they now have lube and after coating his fingers in the cold gel-like substance Dean prods more firmly until his index finger slips inside. 

”You okay?” Dean manages, Cas nodding frantically in response. 

”Keep going.”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice. Dean starts pumping his finger in deeper, keeping a close eye on Cas’s expression as he does it. The angle is a bit awkward for him so he guides Cas further up towards his torso, until Dean’s cock is basically pressed up against his perineum and he can get two fingers into his ass, hooking them as deep as he can go and he knows he’s hit the right spot when Cas’s back arches and he rocks his hips down against Dean’s. 

”Do that again,” he rasps, and Dean realizes that he is not going to take this any further tonight. They are both wound up and tense and Dean can’t possibly keep this up for long enough to actually fuck him. 

He decides to pay more focus to their aching erections instead, placing his free hand around Cas just as he pushes against his prostate again. Cas slams a hand onto the bed next to Dean’s head as if he needs it to physically hold himself upright, which Dean has zero doubts is actually the case. His thoughts scatter as Cas reaches down towards Dean’s cock and brings their erections together, locking their fingers into a tunnel that they can both thrust into. 

”Dean-” Cas groans, seeming slightly bewildered as he alters between fucking forwards into their hands and back against Dean’s fingers.

”You’re so beautiful.”

”Dean, I’m gonna- I’m going to-”

”Come on, come for me. Let go,” Dean urges, pumping him a little harder to help drive him over the edge. They stay like that for minutes, breathing and gasping and giving each other all that they’ve got, and then Cas tenses up with a whimper and comes, seconds before Dean blows his load as well. For a moment none of them move, bodies completely frozen in the midst of all the pleasure, but then Cas collapses on top of Dean as if all his strings had suddenly been cut and Dean lets out a yelp of pain.

”Ribs, Cas, fucking hell,” he curses, and Cas does his best to lift himself up on shaking arms. 

”Sorry,” he says sheepishly, but Dean pulls him down into a kiss to show him that it doesn’t really matter. 

After they’ve both gotten a moment to catch their breaths Cas locates his clothes and puts them back on, much to Dean’s dismay. He then proceeds to dry away every stray spot of come that they can find, help Dean back into the gown and just as Dean thinks that he is leaving, he pushes his way back into Dean’s space and lies down next to him. Startled, Dean just wraps his arms around him and pulls him a little closer to keep him from falling off the bed.

A few long minutes pass when neither of them say anything. Dean draws little circles and figures on Cas’s back, but eventually the motion stops. He’s tired. 

”Thank you,” Cas whispers, and Dean wonders if he knows that he’s awake. He doesn’t say anything though. He just hugs him a little tighter. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaay! New chapter!   
> If you are reading this, I would just like to take a moment to thank you. Seriously. Thank you for sticking with this story, it means the world to me.   
> Now, buckle up and get ready, here is a new chapter for you xx

**143/730**

 

Benny doesn’t let him out of his sight. Sure, Dean appreciates it, but he was hoping on getting some alone time with Cas during the exercise period, which apparently will have to wait. 

When he doesn’t even allow Dean to go to the bathroom alone, Dean snaps. 

”Dude, seriously. I can take care of myself.”

”I know,” Benny sighs, casting a worried look across his shoulder. ”But you don’t have to. And the Milligan brother’s are due to come out of isolation any minute now.” 

Right. Dean hadn’t thought about that. He re-buttons his jumpsuit and washes his hands, leading the way back to the cafeteria. 

”Think they’ll try something?” he asks conversationally, but he hears the worry in his own voice. 

”I got your back.”

”Benny-” Dean says, stopping in the middle of the corridor. He is met by an odd look and a ”let’s-go”-motion from Benny’s hands, but he just realized what his friend meant by that.

”Don’t do this. You can’t risk your chance of getting out, man. Not on my account.” 

Benny exhales heavily and pulls a sad smile. ”I know why you think that, brother. But what they did to you…I thought you were dead. I won’t let that happen, not to you.” 

”What is this weird obsession everyone has with me?” Dean bursts, throwing his hands into the air in lack of anything better to do. ”You, Ellen, Gabriel - you do realize that I’m a fucking criminal, right? Stop treating me like a _kid_.”

”But you _are_ a kid, Dean. Tell me, how old are you?”

”I’m 20.”

Benny waves a hand at him as if Dean just gave the answer to his own question. ”You’re just a kid. And I know damn well that you don’t deserve to be in here. Fuck, look at you take on Alastair whenever he casts so much as a glance in Garth’s direction. You look out for everyone here, brother, hell, you even stood up for my sorry ass once. Let us do the same for you.” 

”Are you done?” Dean says through gritted teeth, holding back the anger, the tears, every emotion that’s threatening to burst out of his chest.

”Yeah, brother. I’m done.”

Without another word, Dean walks past him and gets in line to get another disgusting meal. If Benny follows him, he doesn’t know. He walks straight past Garth and Cas and sits on his own. 

 

 

**144/730**

 

It’s time for carpentry again, and after full-on ignoring Cas yesterday, Dean decides to stop acting like a spoiled kid and start acting like the adult he claims to be. Benny is still never too far away, but after Michael and Lucifer joined them for dinner and didn’t immediately attack Dean, he has kept his distance. 

Dean sits down next to Cas and clears his throat to get his attention (simultaneously wondering how the guy always gets there before him). 

”Dean,” Cas says calmly, looking up at him with a calculating expression and Dean hates that he is the one that removed the warmth from those eyes. 

”I’m sorry. I just-” he bites his bottom lip tentatively and sighs. ”I needed some time. I’m sorry I ignored you.” Fuck it, he’s feeling like a ten-year-old apologizing for stealing someone’s toy, but at least he’s trying. 

”I accept your apology,” Cas continues in the same monotone voice. Dean feels like hitting him, but stops himself - talk about a development of his personality.

”Good. So, uh, we’re good? Right?”

There’s that look in his eyes again, that cold, inhuman look that doesn’t belong on his pretty face. Dean swallows hard past the lump in his throat.

”Of course. I got…distracted. I forgot what our relationship actually means, and I assure you that it won’t happen again.”

Dean just looks at him. ”Our only reason for doing this is to pass the time, right? I mean, we both have more than a year left. Surely this…” he waves his hand towards Dean and then back to himself, ”can be allowed to go on while we’re both here? Then when I am let out we can part as friends. Seeing as I live a few states over, we probably won’t ever see each other again.” 

Dean wants to scream and shout and yell at him that this is probably one of the most important things in his life right now, that Cas makes him happy in a way few have before, but he can’t utter a single word. Instead he nods solemnly and accepts Cas’s painful words. 

Fine. If that’s all he wants out of this, Dean won’t push it. He’ll take whatever he can get. 

”So,” Dean says at last. ”Between the buildings tomorrow?”

Cas smiles, and Dean can pretend that he never said those things because his smile is a beautiful thing and something inside Dean cracks at the sight of it. 

”I look forward to it.” 

 

 

**3123/3650**

 

When Castiel wakes up, he can’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. The look on Dean’s face flashes on his eyelids every time he blinks, but he keeps telling himself that it was for the best. They have both become too involved in this…relationship, and it has to stop. 

Well, not all of it, because Castiel is just a man and he cannot refuse Dean’s candy-apple-green eyes and the way his lips part slightly as he listens to Castiel talk, but he can protect Dean from getting attached to him. 

Seeing him broken and bleeding on the floor after Michael and Lucifer had had their fun with him…It was the worst Castiel has ever felt and he can’t allow that to happen again.

He can’t allow himself to fall in love with him. 

God knows he wants it, he wants everything with this man, he wants an ”after” and he wants to be there waiting for him when he is let out. 

Unfortunately, Castiel is not going to get an ”after”. He’s had this planned for a long time now, and a fling with a young inmate is not going to stop him. Sure, it might postpone his plans for a bit, but Castiel still hasn’t changed his mind. 

The day they let him out, he is going to buy a gun, put it to the side of his head and pull the trigger. He has seen it unfold in his mind countless times, and he is ready. 

Only 527 days left. He might as well spend those days with Dean Winchester. 

A lot of things have changed since he arrived. For starters, Castiel goes to breakfast every day now, and even though the only thing he consumes is half a cup of black coffee, he enjoys listening to Dean small talk with the other inmates and switching their plates when Dean finishes his serving of porridge. Most days, Dean barely notices it, he just keeps on eating and talking between mouthfuls of food, and Castiel watches him in silence and unsuccessfully tries to hide a smile. Some days, though, Dean follows the motion of his hands with his eyes and gives him a fond look that Castiel has to break. It is on those days that Castiel can’t wait to get him alone so he can kiss him. 

Before Dean, Castiel’s experience when it came to physical contact was no more than getting the occasional hug from Gabriel and being kissed by his second cousin Hazel when they were six years old. He has never had sex. He wonders if Dean realizes this, but then he remembers that Dean doesn’t know that he was only sixteen when he was arrested. The same age that Dean’s younger brother is now. Best not to think about that, though. 

Today Dean notices the plate-exchange and his smile is so sweet that Castiel can feel his heart skip a beat. He pokes at Dean’s shin underneath the table and tries not to laugh as Dean does his best to reciprocate. Dean keeps talking to Benny, and Castiel stays quiet, but there is something incredibly comforting in touching his feet and feeling his toes squiggle in his shoes. Dean’s eyes crinkle up at the corners when he smiles. His lips move smoothly over every syllable, occasionally getting stuck between white pearls of teeth and then released slowly. Castiel licks his lips. 

Dean chuckles and says, ”Not for nothing, Cas, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” 

Castiel can feel his cheeks flush with shame and he quickly looks down at his half-finished cup of coffee. Dean steers the conversation into another topic, but forces his foot in between Castiel’s shins. 

Breakfast ends and turns into exercise period, and all the prisoners of C-block are led outside. Sometimes Castiel wishes that they could have been a bit more creative with their daily schedule, seeing as every single day consists of the same five activities - breakfast, exercise period, lunch, skills class (in Castiel’s case that means carpentry) and dinner. The same five activities, every day. 

Castiel doesn’t know how many crucifixes and boxes and butterknives he has made over the years. 

He has known about the space between the buildings for a while now, and even before Dean he tried to slip away as often as possible. Now, however, the time he spends there is much more enjoyable. 

Like that first time they kissed - Castiel still thinks back on it with a smile. Dean had been so gentle, the gesture filled with so much warmth that it stunned Castiel who hadn’t known anything but hate for the past eight years. 

And then it just got worse. Much worse. The kisses turned to rutting against each other’s legs, to handjobs and - god help him - blowjobs. 

And that time in the hospital, when Dean pushed inside him and awakened a spark that Castiel did not know existed. Castiel tried to imitate it in bed the following night, but the angle had been all wrong and his cellmate’s snoring had sort of ruined the mood. 

He wants it again, but he is afraid to ask. 

As he slips into the hidden space and waits for Dean to do his daily tour of the field, talking with some of the inmates that he’s gotten friendly with, Castiel is suddenly a bit nervous. Dean had looked upset after their conversation at carpentry yesterday. Even though Castiel should not care about his feelings, because they are not doing this because they like each other, he can’t help but feel sorry that he is the one that caused that sad frown to appear on Dean’s face. 

”Hey,” Dean grunts, effectively breaking Castiel’s line of thought. There is a crinkle between his eyebrows and a slight pout to his mouth, and Castiel is just about to speak when Dean closes the distance between them and crushes him in a kiss. 

Castiel will probably never get used to being kissed liked this. 

Dean holds him with such devotion, his rough hands delicately tracing a line along his jaw, bracing his face and holding him close with nothing but his inner magnetic field. Castiel is hopelessly drawn to him. It is completely unfair. 

By now they have reached the point where the kiss usually turn into a forehead-against-forehead hug, followed by a smile, a laugh and then a conversation. Those are the moments that Castiel looks forward to the most, when Dean listens to him with his entire being, paying attention to details that no one else ever has. 

Castiel is ready to break away, but Dean never does. He keeps kissing him. When Castiel makes a motion as if he’s trying to back off, Dean only follows and pushes him against the wall, locking his wrists in a deadly grip and when he shoves a hand down the front of Castiel’s jumpsuit and wraps it around him, Castiel can’t really stop him. 

They stay like that for a while, Dean jerking him roughly and kissing him with a new heat. Castiel is finding it more difficult to breathe evenly with every passing second, feeling nothing but Dean’s lips and his hand and his hips that thrust hard against him. After a bit of tugging, Castiel’s hands are released and he shamelessly grabs hold of Dean’s ass, pulling him in and moaning at the increased friction. 

Castiel kneads the muscle in his ass and touches him as intimately as he can through the two layers of fabric, enticing a few wrecked breaths from Dean’s lungs and it all ends with a stuttering orgasm, hips moving of their own accord. Dean’s head falls forward against his shoulder as he keeps on jerking Castiel, not stopping until he tenses up and comes with a name tucked in behind his lips. 

Dean gives him a kiss, a deep, sweet thing, while he buttons his jumpsuit back up. With a smirk he ruffles up Castiel’s hair just a bit more, before pecking the corner of his mouth. Then he leaves without another word. 

It’s devastating, watching him go. Castiel wants to pull him back and unsay all of those lies that he spit out, but he can’t. 

This is for the best. 

He shifts his hips a little around the uncomfortable sensation of come sticking in his underwear, and does his best to flatten his hair. 

Outside the hidden space, Dean has started up a wrestling match with a few of the inmates. Two wardens watch with disinterest. The sun is hiding behind thick, grey clouds, and the world is a bright and beautiful place because Dean’s laughter can be heard across the exercise field. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo sorry for the slow updates. I don't really have an excuse. Hope you like this chapter, and remember that I haven't given up on this little fic yet xx

**146/730**

 

Dean has come to a conclusion. 

Lucifer and Michael are two little shits that need to be dealt with. 

To be honest, what he really needs is to have a nice little chat with Cas and tell him to grow the fuck up and stop treating him like he’s getting paid to blow him, but that will have to wait. 

Carpentry is excessively boring today, and even their instructor seems a little out of it. They make boxes again. If only they’d be allowed to smash them as well, Dean might find the motivation to make one. 

Cas sits across from him, his hair a little extra disheveled from where Dean’s fingers messed it up earlier. Hiding a smile, Dean nudges at Cas’s toes underneath the table. He gets a pair of squinty eyes and no other response, making him roll his eyes and retreat. 

Cas is…different. Dean doesn’t know what happened, but since he got out of the hospital, their entire relationship has changed from comfortable and simple to all kinds of complicated. 

He still wants this, though. And if the only thing that Cas wants is a good blowjob, Dean will just have to live with that. It’s not like he hasn’t before. 

Just this morning, Cas had switched their plates and given him a soft smile, then contributed to the conversation by having a go at telling a joke, that was so innocent and well-planned that Dean couldn’t stop his entire body from shaking with laughter. 

It was like that time a while back when Dean got his second letter from Bobby. When he realized that Sam hadn’t been sending him anything. Then, Dean had been on the verge of tears and Cas had said something stupid that had ripped the tension from his shoulders. He just makes things _better_. 

Or, rather, he did. Now, Dean doesn’t know. 

When carpentry class is over and they head to the cafeteria, Cas is suddenly nowhere to be seen. He wonders if…

No. The last time the evil brothers tried something, Gabriel made sure that it wouldn’t happen again. Sure, they may be mean and throw tantrums every now and then, and Dean would very much like to bash their brains in, but they wouldn’t…?

Dean breaks into a sprint and ignores the shouts from the wardens. The (slightly) more mature part of him realizes that he could use their help, while another part of him just wants to be able to take the brothers down himself. The fact that that plan didn’t work out so well last time hasn’t really crossed his mind. 

There is only one place between the carpentry building and the cafeteria that they could be, and Dean heads straight there. The door on the side of the cafeteria that leads to the showers. It would take hours before anyone found them, and-

No. He can’t think about that right now. 

His brain tells him that nothing has happened, that he was paranoid and that he is only going to be faced with an anticlimactic scene where Lucifer and Michael are hooking up, but he can hear grunts of pain and a voice that definitely belongs to Cas. 

”YOU SONS OF BITCHES I’M GONNA KILL YOU RIGHT NOW,” Dean shouts as he runs inside, bumping head-first into Lucifer who replies with a wicked smile and a fist to his jaw. Before they can continue, a wrestling match unfolds as three wardens fight to restrain Lucifer, Michael and Cas while Gabriel settles for a hand on Dean’s chest. 

Gabriel speaks but Dean can’t hear him. He can only cast a desperate glance at Cas and find his nose bleeding and a blooming bruise on his forehead. 

”Dean!” Gabriel barks, grabbing his chin like a mother scolding her child. ”Are you okay?”

”I swear to god, if anyone asks me that one more time I’m gonna start throwing punches!”

”Oh, boy, you’re already throwing them. Come on.” He tugs at Dean’s arm in an attempt at trying to follow the other wardens. 

”What? No.”

”Dean-O, I thought we’d been through this enough times for you to have learned that _hitting people_ puts you in _isolation_.”

”I was looking after your cousin, alright?” Dean bursts, ripping his arm out of Gabriel’s grip. The light hits his cheek as if to show off his scar and remind Dean of just how much he owes Gabriel, and he forces himself to take a deep breath. ”You do know that they’re targeting him, right?”

”My brothers may be insane psychopaths, but that’s just absurd,” he says with a frown that’s somewhere close to a smile. Dean intends to wipe it right off his smug little face. 

”They are the ones that teamed up with that warden, the-what’s his name?-”

”Who, _Adler_?”

”Yeah! Him! And it’s happened before! And they’re after him, because of something that they won’t tell us, and-”

”Dean, stop. Do I honestly have to tell you this again?”

” _What_?”

”We are in prison,” he says extremely slowly, pronouncing every word carefully. ”Well, technically not me, but all of you guys. My brothers are criminals. What exactly did you expect, that you’d all become BFF’s and braid each other’s hairs?”

”Shut up,” Dean bites back. ”You don’t believe that. He is your _cousin_. Why the hell would they pick on him without reason? Huh?”

Gabriel just looks away. Good. Maybe that means that he has finally hit a sore spot. 

”You and I both know that something’s going on. And I don’t think that it’s fair that Cas has to pay for it.”

Without a single word in response, Gabriel ushers him outside so that they can go to the cafeteria. Dean figures that the conversation is over, but before they enter, Gabriel tugs him close to speak quietly into his ear. 

”Why don’t you ask our dear Castiel what he did, before you paint him out to be the victim. I like you, kid, but you really need to get your head out of your ass.”

He opens the door to go inside, leaving Dean quite breathless and speechless, and because he is Gabriel, he adds with a smirk, ”Or maybe out of someone else’s ass?”

Goddamn it. Being smug has to run in this entire _family_. 

 

 

**160/730**

There is no real progress concerning the relationship between Cas and his cousins. He keeps being beat on, and Dean keeps trying to step in to ease up on the punishment, and in the end they both get a nice beating. It has come to the point where Dean’s bruises have bruises. Ellen has even threatened to put him in isolation for health reasons. 

 

**162/730**

When Dean and Cas finally find a day when neither of them are in isolation, the hospital or currently being beat up, they meet between the buildings. 

”Dean,” Cas says, and in his voice Dean can hear that he wants to talk, not kiss. He tries it anyways, because Dean is a stubborn bastard, but when Cas physically pushed him away he tells himself to at least listen. 

Or, well, try to, that is. 

”I thought we weren’t doing any talking anymore, Cas. Unless you mean dirty talk, which I’m up for, by the way, but you’ll have to keep it down.”

”Dean, I need you to do something for me.”

”A-” 

Dean bites his tongue to hold back the word. 

_Anything. I’ll do anything you ask of me_.

”What?” he says instead, forcing his voice to sound more gruff than it actually is. 

”I need you to stop intervening in my business with Lucifer and Michael.”

”Your _business_?” Dean snorts a laugh. ”Dude, they are kicking your ass six days from Sunday. You just can’t admit that you need my help.”

Cas’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t speak. Dean considers that to be a win. Just as he is kind of-almost content with the situation, something else pops into his mind, and he can’t seem to get Gabriel’s voice to disappear. 

”Cas, what did you do? How the fuck did someone like you end up in here?” It’s an honest question, but Dean doesn’t expect an honest reply. He waits a respectable 20 seconds before he lunges in for a kiss, and this time, Cas seems pretty keen on not talking. 

 

 

**173/730**

_We are not friends_ , Dean thinks. _He is not my friend._

Dean meets Cas between the buildings and doesn’t even try to start a conversation. He has just spent the last two days in isolation, no thanks to douchebag number 1 and number 2, and his libido is killing him. He wonders how all these guys can survive in prison without getting it on, and then he reaches Cas and presses him up against the wall and he stops thinking. 

And when Cas starts stroking his hair and whispering praise into his ear, he tells himself again that this is a no-feelings-thing, that Cas doesn’t want anything to do with him outside these four (or, rather three) walls, and grabs his wrists to pin him down. 

Cas is the one who wanted this to be a casual thing. Fine. That’s what he’s getting. 

 

 

**178/730**

 

Today has not been a good day for Dean. Benny has been harassing him all morning because of his supposedly ”loud snoring”, and Dean may have acted out and refused to sit with him at breakfast. They should probably talk about it, but then again, Dean can just lure him into a game of poker and things will go back to normal. 

If only it was as easy to deal with Cas. 

After breakfast it is exercise period, and Dean heads straight for the space between the buildings. Cas is already there, as always, waiting patiently. 

He can tell from Cas’s expression that the guy wants to say something, but they’re not supposed to talk anymore and Dean is not interested. He backs them both up into the corner furthest from the opening and presses Cas up against the wall, holding a firm grip in his hair and he leans in for a kiss, chasing that sweet taste of Cas’s lips. Cas moans in surprise and Dean pushes forwards more urgently. 

When Cas plants his hands on his chest and pushes at him gently, Dean takes that as a sign to get going. He breaks the kiss and starts licking his way down Cas’s throat, reaching for his groin through the jumpsuit. 

”Dean,” Cas says, firmly. Damn it, they don’t have time for this. Dean goes back to his lips for another kiss, but now Cas is more insistent.

”Dean, stop,” he bites, and when Dean forces a kiss on him, Cas shoves him a good three feet away. Dean stumbles a little and covers his mouth where Cas bit his lip. Anger blossoms up inside him and he spits some blood on the ground. 

”What the fuck do you want from me?” he growls, kicking at a rock and making it ricochet across the walls. 

”Dean-” 

”No, seriously. I’m tired of this fucking drama. Do you want me or not? It’s a simple question, Cas, but you seem to have made it your mission not to answer it.”

”I _can’t_.”

That was an unexpected answer, and it actually shuts Dean up for a moment. 

”You what?”

”I don’t know what I want. Well, I do, but we can’t- This isn’t- it’s not-”

”It’s not what?”

”You’re a man,” Cas blurts, and if Dean wasn’t so riled up he might have laughed.

”Yeah, last time I checked.” 

”And I am-”

”No, no, no, don’t give me that bullshit. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, and neither should you. So tell me what’s _really_ bothering you.”

Dean can see him biting the inside of his cheeks, which means that he must have really pissed him off. The problem is that Cas doesn’t _do_ anything, he just stands there with his cold eyes and pouty lips and stares at him. 

”Do you want to stop? To break off whatever this is? You made it fucking clear that you never want to see me again once you get out, so why don’t we start now?” 

”Dean-” The sad thing is that Cas cuts himself off, because surely there are things that he wants to say? However, Dean is tired of having his heart tossed back and forth like it’s not worth anything, and for once he’s going to do himself a favor. 

”No, you know what? I’m done. I’m out. Just stay away from me.” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He just leaves. The worst part of all is that Cas doesn’t even seem to care. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the slow updates. I just started college so my days are a bit more busy than they used to be!   
> Hope you like the chapter xx

**179/730**

The next morning is all kinds of awkward. 

For starters, Benny gives him a look that tells Dean that he just _knows_. 

The bastard. 

At breakfast, Dean is both dreading and hoping that Cas will show up, even though he has absolutely no idea what he would say to him. He and Benny and Garth sit at their usual table, and Cas is nowhere to be seen. 

Garth opens his mouth as if to say something, but Benny shuts him down. 

”There’s no point. I’m tellin’ you, he won’t speak.” 

Dean doesn’t know whether to be grateful or pissed off. He settles for a shrug and ducks his head down closer to his plate. 

It seems like he will have to do with one serving of porridge today. 

Benny and Garth make some half-hearted attempts at striking up a conversation, but it quickly dies down and the three of them sit in stiff silence. Dean finishes his porridge way too quickly and now he’s restless, because he has to sit here and wait until they are going to be let outside. Garth seems to notice his distress, because he leans in across the table and grins toothily. 

”Oh Dean, you can talk to us. This is a safe place.” 

_God,_ Dean would very much like to _vomit_ right now. He pushes at Garth’s shoulder, to no use. 

”What’s bothering you? Is it Castiel?”

”What? No!” Dean says, maybe just a little too quickly. 

”I bet he didn’t mean it, whatever he said. He is a nice guy.”

”He didn’t- just drop it, Garth. Please,” Dean sighs, hiding behind his hands. 

Garth does not give up. 

”You are both adults. I bet you could talk this through and everything will be alright by lunchtime. You can’t very well go to carpentry class without him, can you?”

”Garth I swear to god-”

”Alright, fellas. Why don’t we just stop right there,” Benny tries, but Garth is a persistent fucker. 

”Listen, the two of you have something good. You protect each other. Hell, Michael and Luke are scared of going after him now that he’s got you. If they knew that you were fighting, well, then they would probably go back to their old habits. How they acted before you got here.”

_The bastard_ had to go and pick on Dean’s soft spots. But no, Cas made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with him. Dean is going to respect that. 

If only it weren’t for the tiny voice in the back of his head that tells him that things are not going to end well. That there is some truth in Garth’s words - what would the evil brothers do if they knew that Cas was no longer under his protection?  
He stops his own line of thought with a frown. _Protection_ might not be the right word. However, they have constantly looked out for each other, and there is nothing that Dean wouldn’t do for Castiel, even though the guy doesn’t seem to be aware of it. 

”Dean, all I’m saying is-”

”I’m outta here,” Dean interrupts abruptly, gathering his plate and coffee cup and he gets to his feet without waiting for a reply. 

On his way to the kitchen and where the dishes are to be dropped off, he bumps into someone’s shoulder, neither of them looking up enough to avoid it. Just as Dean is about to tell the guy off their eyes meet and he realizes that out of the hundreds of inmates in C-block, he had to bump into Cas. 

”Sorry,” he mutters, and both of them keep walking. 

 

 

 

**183/730**

Dean is quite certain that his wrist is broken. _Again._ It’s just the cherry on top of the freaking apple pie that is his life today. 

It all started with Cas sitting next to Garth and Benny at breakfast, and Garth revealing that he had basically dragged Cas there to sit with them. Dean was not amused. He took his single serving of porridge and sat at another table next to some other inmates who ignored him completely.

At exercise period, he and Benny were right in the middle of a game of poker when Lucifer had decided to use Garth’s head as a sparring partner, which, of course, led to a fistfight that the wardens could shut down rather quickly. 

Lucifer then proceeded to go after Cas instead, which Dean very much wanted to ignore, but apparently he has a fucking soft heart because he stepped in between. 

And here he is. 

Fan-freaking-tastic. 

Crouching on his knees on the ground with his limp hand held gingerly against his body. Benny is saying something, and Garth is saying something, and even Cas is saying something, but Dean shuts it all out and welcomes the pain instead. It’s so different from the pain of losing Cas. More substantial, if that makes sense. He dives deeply into it, lets it fill up his every cell and explode inside him, and he hardly notices how another familiar voice speaks into his ear and guides him to his feet. 

It’s not until Ellen slaps his cheek that he comes to. 

”And here I thought you were making progress. Seems like I was wrong,” she says in her smooth, motherly voice, and Dean just wants to stay in her proximity. 

”It’s been ten days. Not that I’ve been counting, or anything,” she continues. She is expecting a laugh, but Dean can’t summon one no matter how hard he tries. He presses his lips together into a thin line and clamps his eyes together. 

”’m sorry,” he mumbles. 

”You should be. _Jesus_.” 

Dean is not looking, but he can _hear_ that Ellen rolls her eyes. 

”Dawson, will you give us a minute?”

”Sure thing, ma’am.” There is the distinct sound of footsteps leaving the room, then the closing of a door. Dean peeks at Ellen just as she sits on her little stool next to him. 

”Talk to me,” she says softly, gazing at him with an expression that is foreign to Dean; one that he doesn’t really want to see. 

”My wrist hurts like a son of a bitch. Care to fix it?”

”Dean.” She continues in the same voice and cups his cheek in her hand. Dean can’t help leaning into the touch. ”What’s wrong?”

Dean considers telling her the truth, but it is a fleeting thought and he pulls away from it before it can hurt him. ”My wrist is broken,” he says instead. She nods shortly and her hand falls into her lap with a thud. 

”Alright. Let me have a look.” 

 

 

**187/730**

Dean has not missed walking around with a cast. It’s heavy, and his hand is useless, and he can’t do a fucking thing in carpentry with only his left hand. He can feel Cas’s eyes on him from across the room, but refuses to acknowledge him. 

Somehow Garth managed to get transferred to carpentry, something to do with ”calling in a favor” that Dean doesn’t want to dwell on too much, so now he is sitting next to him, working on a butter knife. Dean must have made two dozen of them by now. 

”I’m telling you, Dean, you should talk to him.”

Dean snatches the knife from Garth’s hand and tries to balance it on his index finger. 

”I don’t _want_ to talk to him.” 

”He is sorry, you know. He said so himself.”

”Not interested. Tell me, did you move to carpentry just to talk about Cas? Or do you actually want to be here?”

”Nah, I’m much more of a sowing-type of man. But I couldn’t let you two fight without some help.”

”We’re not _fighting_ ,” Dean hisses, wondering just what it is about Garth that makes Dean open his mouth in the first place. He should just stay quiet. Brood in silence, his specialty.

”Then you wouldn’t mind if I invite him over here?”

”God help me, Garth, you do that and I will kill you.” 

Garth just grins wider than ever and punches his shoulder. It kind of hurts. 

”Told you that you were fighting.”

 

 

**188/730**

Benny’s advice is a bit more discreet, but still, it pisses Dean off. 

”All I’m saying is that whenever me and Andrea are mad at each other, we make sure to talk it over. Most of the time, it is just one or both misunderstanding the other.”

”I really don’t get why you are comparing me and Cas to you and your _wife_ ,” Dean grunts, throwing down a full house on the table and getting ready to claim his rewards. 

”I didn’t know that it was supposed to be a secret. At least from me and Garth. You might want to watch yourselves though, not everyone are as accepting and kind as we are.” 

”You- _what!?_ ”

Benny reveals a straight flush and moves the little pile of cigarettes towards his half of the table. Dean is practically fuming, ears bright red and hot.

”With all those googly-eyes that he has been throwing at you it’s a wonder that no one else has noticed it.” 

 

 

**189/730**

Okay, fine. Maybe Dean hasn’t been as discreet as he had hoped, but it still doesn’t matter. Cas wanted nothing to do with him, which he made perfectly clear, and instead of falling head over heels for the guy Dean has decided to leave it behind him.

Which is exactly what he is going to do. 

He makes sure to be involved in conversations and use anything he can find as a distraction, walks as far away from the space between the buildings during exercise period and sits with his back against Cas during carpentry. He laughs and tells jokes and wins at poker, and he does his best to ignore the fact that he has a more than 500 days left in this godforsaken place. 

It is not until dinnertime when Benny mentions Alastair that Dean realizes that the evil brothers have been unusually quiet the last couple of days. Garth mentions something about isolation that doesn’t sound so far-fetched, so Dean decides not to think about it. 

At least not until his head is slammed into his plate and all he can hear as he raises his tomato-soup-drenched face is a synced cackle. 

”Remember who’s the boss here, Winchester! We’ll see you around!”

”Where else would I be?” Dean shouts back. 

 

 

**194/730**

Cas shows up with a busted eyebrow and Dean forces himself to ignore it.

 

 

**195/730**

The swollen eyebrow is joined by a black eye and two stitches on his cheek. Dean swallows hard and looks away. 

_Not my problem_. 

 

 

**200/730**

Cas doesn’t show up at all for breakfast, and of course Garth knows what happened because he is more invested in Dean and Cas’s relationship than Dean is right now. 

”I heard that warden Adler made a deal with the Milligan’s again. Apparently Gabriel has reported him to chief warden Gadreel.”

”And Cas?”

”In hospital, as far as I know.” 

_Not my problem,_ Dean thinks again. It’s quickly turning into a mantra. 

 

 

**204/730**

When Cas got back from being in the hospital, followed by some time in isolation, according to Garth, Dean was hoping that maybe he would stay out of trouble. Not that he cares, or anything, but seeing him get knocked down repeatedly is messing with Dean’s image of being the little guys’ savior. He still sees himself as someone who will protect the others from bullies like Alastair. 

After carpentry, Dean braces himself and runs up to Cas’s side to walk next to him on the way to dinner. Cas shoots him a confused look but says nothing. 

”Cas, man, please. Just hear me out.”

”We have nothing to talk about.”

”Yeah, we do. Stay away from the Milligans,” Dean says, all in one breath, and Cas actually stops to get a good look at him.

”And that is your business because…?”

”Come on, don’t be like that.”

Cas snorts unhappily and keeps walking. ”Like what? Unfriendly? I am not your friend. It’s not your problem.”

”But it is!” Dean exclaims, stepping in front of him just to get him to stop. There is a frown line on Cas’s brow that is strangely adorable. ”I can’t spend every day watching you get hurt. Not when-”

Dean is cut off by being pushed straight into Castiel, making them both trip and fall to the ground with a dull _thud_ and surprised yelps. Cas wastes no time shoving Dean off of him and attempting to get up again. It is with a sick lurch in his stomach that Dean watches as a shoe connects with the side of his face and Cas’s head snaps back. He tries to get up, to at least get a look at their attacker, but his head is pressed down into the ground. 

Before anyone can actually do anything more, they hear a warden’s warning yell and Dean is slowly released. 

He still hears the sharp words that are said to Cas: ”Remember our deal, cousin. You know the ”or else”.” 

 

 

**220/730**

Cas doesn’t speak to him again, he doesn’t even _look_ at him, which makes it outstandingly difficult for Dean to ask him what ”deal” he has entered with the Milligans. Benny shows no interest at all, and even tells him that he’s glad that someone else is the punching bag for now - Dean has just gone two weeks without getting into a single fight. 

Cas seems to be doing better as well, but Dean just knows that it won’t last forever. 

Unfortunately, they have a new problem. There was a prisoner transfer just yesterday, and while some of the new guys seem pretty decent, the majority seem to be teaming it up with Lucifer and Michael. Dean doesn’t want to the paranoid one, but he can’t help but be worried - it almost feels like they are getting ready for war and he has no idea what the fight is about. 

There is one guy in particular, Azazel that seems to have put Dean in his sights. He’s honestly just your regular creepy white guy, but one who comes with his own set of henchmen. Dean’s got a few new bruises, but nothing that has put him in the hospital.

Not yet. 

 

 

**225/730**

”A little less than three weeks left for you, Benny, how are you feeling?” Garth asks during breakfast without preamble. Benny doesn’t seem to have considered this, because his face breaks out into a wide grin and he even goes so far as pulling Garth into a hug (more like a head-lock, but it’s Benny, so that probably counts as a hug). 

Dean listens to them talk and realizes that he is going to miss having Benny around. The guy deserves to go home, of course, but Dean wishes that he wouldn’t. He has a feeling that introducing a friend you met in prison to your wife and kid would be a bit awkward. 

Their eyes meet and Dean shies away from the promise in them. He can’t hear ”nothing is going to change” and ”we will visit you”, because he knows that it is unlikely that Benny will feel the same once he gets out. 

 

 

**227/730**

All hell breaks loose after breakfast. 

They had all been waiting for it for a while now, but this is worse than Dean could have imagined. He takes one step out onto the gravel and is immediately knocked down. Once he manages to at least raise his head, he finds that the wardens are all pushed up against the wall of C-block, and Azazel seems to be leading the attack. 

”Ah, my favorite Winchester!” he exclaims once he spots Dean, who is pulled to his feet by strong hands. Ignoring Azazel, he scans the crowd until he spots Benny. There is a warning look in his eyes, but at least he seems to be unharmed. 

”What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean spits, tugging at the grip around his wrists, but to no use. 

”All in good time, all in good time. Come on, now, I don’t want you to miss the show!”

Dean is pushed towards the crowd, which he now realizes is formed into a circle, and he almost feels guilty when he looks inside and is relieved because the two guys there are not any of his friends. 

”We’re having a tournament! Whoever wins gets my protection! And trust me, in this day and age - you do not want to get on my bad side,” Azazel shouts, obviously pleased with himself. Dean wonders if he is insane or just bored. 

The two guys in the circle fight ugly, there is blood and broken bones and it lasts for far too long. The taller of the two is knocked down and there is a sickening crunch as his head hits the gravel. 

”Hey!” Dean yells, pushing his way into the circle. ”Are you guys insane? You’re going to kill each other!” He stands in front of the guy on the ground, shivering when a low chuckle can be heard. 

”Oh, Winchester,” Azazel sighs with a smile. ”That’s the point. Rage is such a beautiful thing. I bet I could even get you to throw a few punches.”

”Don’t tempt me,” Dean hisses. Suddenly there are a few loud shouts and actual gunfire as the reinforcements arrive. Inmates are knocked down here and there, and Azazel turns to greet them. 

He looks back on Dean and his smile grows even wider. 

”You look so much like your mother, boy. It’s a pity I made her burn.” 

Dean’s ears start ringing as Azazel is grabbed by a warden and pulled away from his reach. 

It’s not possible. 

His father has spent years trying to find Mary’s killer, with no success. What are the odds that he would end up in the same prison as Dean? 

But how else would he know about the fire? And how else would he know Dean’s name? 

Dean blinks and sees red. He’ll take out the wardens and every goddamn inmate in this place to get him. The _bastard_. 

Just as he starts walking a hand is wrapped around his chest and he growls at whoever is holding him.

”It’s not worth it, brother,” Benny’s soft voice says, and Dean struggles against his grip. 

”He killed my mother. I’m going to _kill him_ ,” Dean replies sharply, and Benny’s hold only tightens further. 

”He’s an asshole and he is right where he deserves to be, unlike you. I’m sorry about your mother, Dean, but trust me when I say that he is not worth it. All you’ll succeed in is getting a longer sentence.”

Dean stops fighting. It takes a few moments, but eventually Benny relaxes and Dean can shove his hands away. He can see Azazel’s smirk from across the field, so he turns around to get him out of his sight. 

Benny forces him to meet his eyes. ”Now, I’m getting out of here in two weeks. Promise me you won’t be getting into trouble?”

”Yeah, whatever,” Dean mumbles, still just trying to breathe. 

”You _promise_ me, Dean Winchester.”

”Fine. I promise.”

He takes a deep breath, considers running after Azazel again, and then he meets Cas’s eyes and suddenly the fight in him just floats away. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that a short chapter was better than no chapter, hope you guys like it! And thank you so much for commenting xx

**228/730**

Benny keeps him in line, but for once Dean doesn’t want him to. He finally has his mother’s murderer within arm’s reach, the reason John started drinking, the reason he and Sammy were left alone with no money and no home. 

_Azazel Masters_. 

All Dean ever knew was his last name, but it makes sense. Because why on earth would Azazel know about Mary’s death in such detail if he wasn’t responsible for it? 

Poor Benny, Azazel isn’t making it easy for him. He is on Dean the entire time, poking and picking at him, probably to see how far he can go. Dean has never wanted someone dead like he wants Azazel dead. Alastair was a creep and a bully, but Dean knows that he is right where he deserves to be. Michael and Lucifer are jerks, but when you meet Azazel’s eyes, you know that only one of you will survive.

”How’s that bacon, Winchester? Extra crispy?” Azazel calls from across the cafeteria. Dean would have jumped him right this moment if he hadn’t spotted Benny’s warning glare. 

Apparently Garth has missed his friends’ interaction, because he doesn’t miss a beat before he says, ”Dudes, that was not even funny. Everybody knows that you don’t make jokes about dead people.”

For some reason, it is enough to draw away the tension from Dean’s shoulders. At least for now. 

”Thanks, Garth,” he mutters and looks down at his plate. Bacon, beans and mashed potatoes. It looks like it’s already been down someone’s throat once. Angrily Dean pushes the plate away and crosses his arms in front of him on the table. 

If only he could talk to John. Hell, he’d even like to talk to Sam about this. Too bad neither of them have made any effort at trying to keep in touch. Bobby’s sent a few letters, but since Dean never replies to them he can’t be disappointed if they were to stop coming. 

”Well, Dean, I don’t know about you but I say we better find a new Benny. Otherwise you’ll have n one to beat in poker.”

”Garth, I’m pretty sure I could beat you.”

”Not a chance, dude. But I thinks it’s great that your self-confidence is on top!”

Benny chuckles quietly, Dean shoves playfully at Garth’s shoulder, and for what has to be the hundredth time he reminds himself that this is prison, and that maybe he shouldn’t be making friends with criminals. 

 

 

 

**241/730**

Suddenly it’s here. The day Benny is getting out. 

Dean has been on his very best behavior all week, hasn’t hit anyone and made it his mission to ignore Cas’s bruises and Azazel’s taunts. He has played poker and won a bunch of cigarettes that he couldn’t even carry, and made a whole lot of crap in carpentry. One might even say that Dean Winchester has changed. 

Benny leaves first thing. He gathers his few belongings, gives Dean a long look and holds out his right hand. 

”I’ll see you on the other side, brother.”

Dean can’t speak for the lump in his throat, so he nods vigorously and pulls his friend into a hug. The guards arrive then, and they are out of time. 

”You save my address! And you come visit me!” Benny shouts after him. Dean clutches the note with said address in his hand and wonders where he is supposed to put it so he won’t lose it. 

He spends the rest of the morning memorizing the street and number. 767 North Street, Lawrence. 

Dean and Garth have breakfast alone, which does not mean in silence, because Garth has filed thousands of subjects of conversation, so when Dean doesn’t answer he just changes to another one. 

”What do you think of the porridge today, Dean? A bit less lumpy than yesterday, right?”

”Can you believe the weather? It is absolutely beautiful outside!”

”What did you make in carpentry yesterday?”

Dean only listens to him with half an ear because he is scanning the room for Azazel. 

It is not until they are going outside that Dean can get rid of Garth by sending him away on a mission to find a new deck of cards. As soon as Garth’s back has disappeared from Dean’s view, he turns to the exercise field and searches the crowd for a familiar face. Lucifer flips him off, Michael meets his eyes and bares his teeth, but Dean is not after them today. 

When he spots Azazel’s cold smirk, he charges at him head-first. Unfortunately, he is stopped. 

By Cas’s firm hand on his chest.

”Don’t,” he warns, but Dean just pushes his hand to the side.

”Get out of my way.”

”You’re going to get yourself killed.”

”I don’t give a fuck, Cas. He killed my mother.” 

Dean tries to go past him again, and is startled when Cas grabs his chin and he forces him to meet his eyes.

”I promised Benny that I wouldn’t let you fight Azazel. You have to go through me first.”

Dean doesn’t even consider his actions before he has punched Cas in the face. 

There is a moment of silence when they are both stunned by what Dean just did, but that surprise quickly turns to a two-sided fury and Cas basically tackles Dean to the ground. 

Dean hits him wherever he can reach, ignores the blooms of pain across his body when Cas’s fists land with force, and they roll around in the dirt and the dust, both trying to gain some leverage over the other. Cas is strong, stronger than Dean would have thought, but Dean has been doing this for a long time now and he knows how to break free of Cas’s death grips. Once he gets a hand free he can get enough leverage to knock Cas’s nose with his elbow. The movement is accompanied by the sickening crack of bones breaking. The effect is immediate - Cas cries out and releases him at once. He cradles his broken nose in his hands, blood slowly dripping from long fingers. 

Dean doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even spare an extra glance in Cas’s direction, instead he turns on his heel and marches in Azazel’s direction. 

”Dean, don’t,” a weak voice cries out. Dean ignores him even though it hurts deep down in his core. 

”Why, hello there, Winchester,” Azazel smirks as Dean approaches him. The wardens are already on their way towards Cas, and Dean knows that he will be next on their to-do-list, so he has to be quick. With a swift punch he wipes that ugly smile straight of Azazel’s face, 

”Ooh, feisty!” he exclaims, and Dean _hates_ him. He gets in a few good punches, which apparently only serve to make Azazel determined to take this one step further because he lets out a sharp whistle and suddenly Dean is held back by a set of strong arms. Dean just laughs and spits at his face. 

”You are just too good to be true, boy. Now, let’s get rid of that _smile_ of yours before the wardens put an end to this.” 

A steel fist strikes his ribs, that are already weak from being broken countless times before, and Dean collapses. He can’t breathe. One hit, and he’s down. It’s almost embarrassing, but right now Dean hurts too much to consider that. 

Azazel grabs a tuft of hair and pulls him close. ”I’ll make you a deal. Stay away from me, and I won’t touch you or your friends. This block is big enough for both of us.” He pushes the wheezing Dean to the side, and only then do the wardens come running. 

It’s a good thing that the hospital is right next to the exercise field. 

The wardens half-carry half-drag him to Ellen, who immediately tells them off for moving him but helps maneuver him onto the bed. The beauty of having been in here so many times is that all Dean has to do is roll slightly to one side and point at his chest, and Ellen knows what to do. Unlike the last time Dean’s lung was punctured, he can actually breathe to some extent now. He even manages to get the jumpsuit and his shirt off (with a bit of help, of course) so Ellen won’t have to cut it off. And this time, instead of cutting a hole in his chest, Ellen sticks a needle into his skin and a few seconds later the pressure disappears. 

Dean takes a few gasping breaths and resists the urge to curl in on himself. 

”Get me some coffee, will you Campbell?” Ellen asks, although it is more of an order than a question. The old warden sighs but leaves dutifully. 

”It’s been a while,” she smirks, squeezing his shin reassuringly. ”How’ve you been?”

”Peachy,” Dean replies through a smile that’s so fake that Ellen chuckles. Her expression quickly turns sad, though, and Dean doesn’t really know why. 

”I’m sorry about what happened,” she says, which isn’t much of an explanation, but Dean waves it off like he knows what she’s talking about. 

”Yeah. Thanks, or whatever.” 

She exhales with a new smile and taps out a soft beat on Dean’s leg. 

”So I heard your cellmate got out today?”

”Yeah, I lost my backup guy,” Dean jokes. His breathing is already starting to return to normal, and as much as he hates to admit it, he would like to stay here with Ellen all day. 

”Do you know who the new one is?”

”Yeah, me and the chief had a sit-down and I got to pick my top three candidates. What the fuck do you think.” 

His tone is a bit too harsh but Ellen only raises an eyebrow at him with an amused expression. ”Use that tone on me again, young man, and a punctured lung will be the least of your problems.” 

They hold the silence for no more than two seconds before the two widest grins ever spread on their faces and Ellen laughs softly. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I know that this is waaayy overdue, but Hi, I'm still alive, new chapter for ya!
> 
> xx

**243/730**

Dean’s new cellmate is coming today, and he is both dreading and looking forward to it. Benny was probably the nicest guy he could have ended up with. He honestly doesn’t think that the next one will be anywhere near as good to him, but one can always hope. Come to think about it, now that Benny is gone, maybe he should take the lower bunkbed instead? It is a bit wider, and the top one gets a little shaky every time someone moves. 

Just as Dean has grabbed his stuff to move it to the other bed, a warden knocks the door open and shoves someone inside. 

”Your new roomie,” the warden grunts before slamming the door shut again. 

Oh _fuck_ no. 

Dean pushes his cellmate to the side and starts banging on the door with his fists, then the punches turn into kicks with his feet, and he can feel his skin bruising and his arms shaking from the extortion, but he has to do something. This has to be one big fucking joke. 

He collapses to the floor, a hand pressed gingerly against his aching ribs, and with nothing else left to do he bangs his head one last time on the door. 

At the other end of the room, arms awkwardly wrapped around a towel and a bundle of objects, is Cas. 

 

Cas takes the top bunk without even asking. He keeps his gaze glued to the floor as he puts his few belongings on Benny’s empty shelf on the wall. He points at the toilet seat and Dean gives him as much privacy as he can by getting into bed with his back against him. 

Cas doesn’t say a word. When Dean dares cast a glance at him, his insides squirm with guilt. Cas’s nose is red and swollen and there are dark bruises underneath his eyes. He looks terrible. Dean kind of wants to apologize, or just say something, but he can’t get the words out. They stay out of each other’s way and pretty much pretend like the other person doesn’t exist. 

 

 

**249/730**

The days pass, and the awkwardness never falters. Dean is rather impressed by Cas’s stubbornness, since the guy hasn’t said a single word in his presence in a week, but it’s getting boring. Cas sits alone at lunch and dinner. He never shows up for breakfast. What he does instead, Dean has no idea. 

Azazel is let out from isolation, and keeps circling Dean every exercise period, taunting him, goading him on. And Dean lets him. He doesn’t know why, really, maybe he’s just tired of fighting. Maybe he’s sulking because he misses Cas. 

”Yo, Dean-o!” a familiar voice calls during exercise period one particularly chilly morning. Gabriel is standing guard outside the hospital wing, and Dean finds himself walking over to him. The scar on his cheek has turned into a blue shade due to the cold. 

”What’s up, Gabe?” Dean greets sullenly. Gabriel doesn’t seem to register his mood at all. 

”I must say I’m proud of you, kid. Eight days and not even a glance in Azazel’s direction. Has it got something to do with your new roomie?” 

Suddenly, something clicks into place and Dean lets out a groan. Of _fucking_ course. 

”Gabriel, did you put Cas in my cell?” he sighs, Gabriel’s smirk more than enough of an answer. ”You _prick._ ”

”Don’t say I never did anything for ya,” Gabriel grins. ”Still got the lube?”

” _Yes_ , I’ve still got the-” Dean growls and runs a hand through his hair, just to give his hands another task than punching Gabriel in the face. ”You do realize that your cousin and I are not exactly on speaking terms?”

”Not everyone is into dirty talk,” Gabriel winks. ”Let me know if you guys only need one of the beds, there’s a bunch of new inmates coming at the end of the week and I don’t know where to put them.” 

”Gabe, Cas basically told me that he never wanted to see me again once we get out. He wants nothing to do with me. You’ll have to move him somewhere else.” 

”That’s bullcrap,” Gabriel snorts.   
Dean tries again, ”He said that he lives too far away from Kansas. That it’d be impractical for us to see each other.”

”He said what?” Gabriel asks, stunned. Dean tries to recollect the memory of that last time they really _talked_ to each other, but all he can remember is Cas’s cold, hard eyes. 

”He said that he lives a few states away, and that we probably won’t ever see each other again once he’s let out.”

There is a short pause during which Gabriel looks completely frozen. The only sign that he is alive is the regular puffs of white smoke from his nostrils when he exhales. ”Dean, Cas is from Lawrence.” 

”Then why would he tell me that he’s from-”

”How much has my cousin actually told you about why he’s here? What do you know?” 

”Nothing. He wouldn’t tell me anything.” 

If there’s one feeling Dean can read from Gabriel’s face, it’s pity. 

”Look, I’m not going to spill something that he wants to keep secret. But I’ll tell you this: he was arrested eight years ago. He was sixteen, just a kid. He grew up in prison. So don’t be too hard on him, when he’s probably just afraid of opening up.”

This time it’s Dean’s turn to freeze, not quite sure he can believe what Gabriel just told him. _Sixteen_. Sammy’s sixteen years old. 

 

That night, Dean has trouble falling asleep. He keeps seeing images of Sam being arrested, Sam spending the following eight years in prison, away from his family, locked up in a place of anger and hatred. 

He can hear Cas’s soft breathing from the top bunk, and even though he’s less than three feet away, Dean misses him dearly. Maybe Gabriel was right, maybe Dean’s been to hard on him. He should probably apologize, and try to see things from Cas’s perspective. Tomorrow. He’ll talk to him tomorrow. 

He’s stuck in that grey zone between being awake and sleeping, and things are fuzzy and dream-like and he can’t separate reality from dreams. A door opens, and he can see himself walking out of it, away from prison, all the way to Lawrence, where Bobby and Sam are waiting for him. The impala is there too, looking as beautiful as ever. He’s inside it, and turns the key to start the engine, but it only screams in protest. He tries it again, and the muffled scream fills the entire room, and suddenly he’s on his feet. Two men are in the room, one holding Cas pinned to the bed and the other covering his mouth and nose with one hand, the other wrapped around his throat. Cas is slamming the wall and letting out a deep, guttural noise that sends chills along Dean’s spine. 

”Get off him!” Dean shouts, grabbing the guy closest to him and hurling him against the wall. The second guy lets go of Cas and approaches him, fists raised and ready, but Dean shoves him headfirst into the door and creates enough noise to wake some of the other inmates. 

”What’s going on?”

”Keep the noise down!”

Dean puts his mouth next to the closed hatch that can only be opened from the outside, and shouts for help from the top of his lungs. Lights flicker on, more shouts can be heard, and Dean only has to keep the two intruders at arm’s length for about one minute before wardens reach their cell. 

When the door opens, light floods in and shows the faces of their attackers - Lucifer and Michael. Dean shouldn’t even be surprised. 

Now that he’s sure he won’t be jumped from behind his back, Dean turns to Cas. His breath hitches in his throat when he finds him still lying down, eyes glassy and staring blankly at the ceiling. 

”Cas?” He swallows hard and reaches him, shaking his shoulders gently. Now that he’s closer, Dean can actually see that Cas is taking deep, ragged breaths, blinking slowly and looking like he’s about ready to pass out. 

”Cas, you with me?” Dean asks softly, wiping away a tear that has formed in the corner of Cas’s eye. Cas closes his eyes at the touch and nods, breathing through his mouth like he’s just run a goddamn marathon. 

”Christ, you scared me,” Dean whispers. He hasn’t been able to take his hand away from the side of Cas’s face, and is now petting his hair. He finds himself nearly hypnotized by the way Cas’s chest rises and falls, the undeniable proof that he is alive. 

”S’nice,” Cas mumbles. Dean is unsure of what he means by that, but he keeps on touching him. Cas presses his face into Dean’s hand and sighs, breaths slowly returning to their normal pace. 

 

**250/730**

The bruises on Cas’s neck look awful. Finger-shaped shadows around his throat, along with a few on his cheek. It makes Dean’s insides squirm. What if he hadn’t woken up? What if someone else had shared the room with Cas, someone who wouldn’t have cared whether he lived or died? What if…?

”You’re looking grumpier than usual,” is Garth’s cheerful morning greeting. Dean smiles shortly at him before returning to his porridge. Cas sits a few tables away. There’s a cup of coffee in his hand and purple lines on his skin that shouldn’t be there. Dean can’t stop looking at him. He’s sitting alone. 

”Hey, Dean?” Garth says quietly, leaning over the table to be heard. Dean tears his eyes away and gives Garth his best death-stare instead. Garth doesn’t seem to mind. 

”What?”

”Just talk to him?” 

Once they’ve finished breakfast, they’re all led outside. It’s cold. Dean rubs his hands together and searches the field for one dark-haired inmate. He definitely saw him come outside, but then he lost him during his mandatory card-game with Garth. His eyes drift to the secluded spot between the buildings, and…

He doesn’t think twice about standing up and going there, because if he did, he probably would have changed his mind. He takes a wide loop around the field, as usual, scanning the crowd to make sure that no one sees him disappear. He leans against the wall, lights a smoke, and when the coast is clear…He simply slips away. 

Cas looks downright terrified to see him. He shoots up from his sitting position on the ground, hands wringing in front of his chest and eyes flickering everywhere. 

”Dean, I-” he starts, cutting himself off. Every rational part of Dean’s brain suddenly shuts off, because Cas’s hair is looking particularly disheveled today, and his lips are parted and his eyes are so fucking _blue_. 

Dean takes the two strides that are separating them and kisses him. He kisses him softly, and it hurts, and it hurts, and it _hurts_ , but he can’t make himself stop. 

”I thought you were dead,” Dean whispers, once he finally pulls away. ”Don’t ever do something like that to me again, you hear me? You fucking idiot.” 

”Dean, listen…” 

”It’s okay. You can lie to me all you want. Just _stay alive_.”

”Dean. I’m sorry.”

”Yeah, sorry ain’t gonna cut it. Why would you push me away? Huh? What did I do?” 

Cas backs away completely, resuming to wringing his hands. ”I was scared! No one has ever- You are the first person in years who has ever treated me like something more than a criminal. I guess I was so scared of hurting you that losing you seemed like a better option at the time.” 

Dean hears him, and a part of him understands, and another part of him can only see sixteen-year-old Sam in handcuffs with his entire life suddenly taken away from him. 

”Cas, what the hell happened? How did you end up here?” Cas just shakes his head, face clamped up in pain, and Dean can’t make himself push him anymore. Not today. 

 

**254/730**

Just like that, it’s like the past few weeks never happened. They steal kisses whenever they can, sit way too close to each other during lunch and carpentry, Cas gives him his breakfast, and they fool around during exercise period. It feels like things are finally going their way. With Lucifer and Michael still in isolation, and Azazel doing little more than throwing the occasional comment in Dean’s direction, life is unusually peaceful. 

That night, Dean thinks that they ought to make the most of it. 

Cas still has the top bunk, and he seems to prefer sleeping there, but once the lights are out and the warden has locked their door, he joins Dean in the bottom bunk for a while. Up until now, they’ve done nothing more than make out, and then there was the quick handjob yesterday, but Dean wants more. Right now, Cas is cuddled up next to him with his head on Dean’s arm, hand drawing circles on his chest. 

Dean clears his throat. ”Hey, Cas?” 

”Yes, Dean?”

”D’you wanna…I mean…We could…If you want…?” _Smooth_ , Winchester. Smooth. 

Cas’s hand has stilled, but after a few short moments he lets his fingers trail to Dean’s sides, nipping gently at his lovehandles. 

”I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cas mumbles, angling his head up until he can press his nose against Dean’s neck. And behind his ear. And- bite at the skin just underneath it. 

”I was thinking…” Dean starts again, voice cut off by a gasp as Cas moves and mouths at his Adam’s apple, proceeding to let his teeth graze the clavicle underneath. He’s moving oh-so slowly, and yet Dean’s body tenses up and he can feel his pulse in his groin. 

”Yes, Dean?” Cas repeats, letting his lips latch onto Dean’s neck. He starts tugging at his t-shirt, helping him pull it off after a bit of struggle. The cold air hits his skin, but is soon replaced by Cas’s breaths as he presses his tongue to Dean’s nipple. 

”Jesus christ,” Dean exhales, shuddering as Cas moves to the other nipple, hands still holding a firm grip on his hips. ”Help me out of these pants,” Dean groans, and Cas is quick to comply. He pulls the jumpsuit and underwear off with some effort, actually licking his lips as Dean’s erection bobs free. Cas is kneeling above him, one hand on each side of Dean’s shoulders, and he smiles. 

”Do you still have the lube?”

”What kind of a question is that? Of course I still have it,” Dean grunts, reaching for his little pile of personal belongings until he locates the tube that Gabriel gave him. Cas lets out an almost feral growl and bites down on Dean’s neck, his hands running smoothly along his sides and Dean shudders with want. He helps Cas get out of his damn t-shirt and boxers, and as soon as they are both naked Cas dives down for another kiss and slams their lips together almost brutally, and Dean can definitely taste blood on his tongue. In response he takes a firm grip on Cas’s hips and pulls him down until their dicks drag together. Cas groans into his mouth and the vibrations are absolutely delicious. 

While Cas’s hips stutter of their own accord, Dean pulls out the lube and holds it tentatively between them, a silent question. Something almost nervous flickers across Cas’s face then and he stills, letting his hips rest on Dean’s and the pressure borders on painful. His dominance falters at once, and suddenly he retorts back to the shy, quiet kid who sits alone at breakfast. And damn it, Dean loves both of them. 

”I-” Cas tries, but he can’t even form a single word before Dean has to kiss him again. The fact that they can even have this, that this situation is possible considering where they are, is a miracle in itself. Dean never wants it to stop. 

”I haven’t-” Cas tries again, and it’s almost painful to watch him struggle with his voice. 

”You haven’t what? Bottomed? That’s okay, don’t worry.” Dean smiles, pecking the corner of his mouth in an attempt to bring out a smile. 

Cas just swallows and looks everywhere except into Dean’s eyes. 

”I’m not- I mean, I’m-”

Dean brings a hand up to cup the side of his face, urging him to trust him. To trust that Dean won’t think any less of him no matter what he reveals about himself.

Apparently it works.

”I’m a virgin,” he blurts at last, eyes clamped shut and already he is pulling away. 

It doesn’t happen often, but now it does - Dean is rendered speechless. The thought had honestly never crossed his mind, but now that it has he has absolutely no idea what to say. 

Cas? Virgin? Impossible. The guy looks like a freaking sex-machine with his stupid sex-hair and sex-voice and sex-everything. 

”I’m sorry,” he says weakly, trying to pull away further but all it does is make Dean tighten his grip. 

”Don’t fucking apologize, Cas. Not to me,” he manages, forcing the anger out of his voice. He takes a deep breath, squeezes Cas’s biceps and locks their gazes together. ”Would you feel better if I bottom?” He nods, a motion that’s barely there and Dean might have missed it if he hadn’t been so focused on him. 

”What if I hurt you?” Cas says then, weak and soft and scared and Dean just wants to hug him. Or kiss him. Preferably both.

”Dude, I grew up with an abusive asshole of a dad. I can handle pain. You’re not going to break me.” 

There is a beat of silence before Cas speaks again, hesitation clear on his face. Dean just fights to be patient. 

”I don’t know what to do.” 

”Come on,” Dean smiles, carding fingers through raven-black hair to pull him down into a sweet kiss that soon turns almost filthy. With Cas on top, it’s easy enough to guide him into rocking their hips together, long, smooth motions that makes them breathless and incoherent. Once most of the tension seems to have left Cas’s shoulders Dean brings out the lube again. They break the kiss and Cas watches silently as Dean opens the tube and grabs Cas’s hand, squirting some onto his fingers that he helps spread out. He steers Cas’s hand down between his legs, lifting his left knee up to help out and give better access, and then Cas seems to get what he is supposed to do. Concentration furrows his brow as he carefully prods at Dean’s rim, coating the lube around and Dean has to bite back the urge to moan because _jesus_ , the guy sure can use his fingers. As his index finger slips inside Dean sighs heavily. Cas almost looks a little scared (because of course he is worried of doing something wrong) and Dean is so ready for him to start fucking him with his finger that he can’t get out a coherent sentence. 

”Just- uhh- keep- oh- going-” he mumbles, clenching around the finger and _agonizingly_ slowly Cas pushes inside. Dean has fingered himself enough times to already be used to the simple penetration of one finger, but he lets Cas thrust his finger in and out a few times before he urges him to add another one. Already growing a bit more sure of himself, Cas even starts scissoring his fingers and hooking them to push at his insides, and when he hits _that_ spot Dean full-on groans and takes a firm hold of his hair, pulling him down into a devastating kiss that steals all the air from his lungs. 

Cas adds a third finger without needing direction, slowly pulling them in and out. Dean doesn’t miss the way his hips tremble against Dean’s thigh, cock bumping the top of Dean’s knee and fuck it, he needs Cas inside him like, _right now_. 

”I’m good, Cas, it’s okay. I’m ready,” he rambles, fingers fumbling for wherever he left the lube and he growls a little as he can’t find it, and then Cas puts it in his hand and he smiles gratefully. He squirts a healthy amount into his hand and reaches for Cas’s cock, shuddering at the noises Cas makes when he starts pumping it to spread out the lube. Once his work is done he spreads his legs a little wider, pushes Cas’s fingers away and helps guide him into a comfortable position. 

He has time for a split second of hesitation - because he has never actually bottomed before - when Cas drowns him in a kiss and every worry seeps from his mind. They can do this. 

When he notices how Cas struggles a bit he reaches down to help line him up, letting him push a little against the rim before he removes his hand to grasp the sheets instead. 

”Alright,” he breathes, relaxing his entire body and then he gasps a little as he is breached. 

Two things happen almost simultaneously. Dean realizes that he should probably tell Cas to take it slow, just as Cas’s more primal instincts set in at the heat and the tightness, and without warning Cas slams his hips forwards and bottoms out at once. 

”Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Dean curses, chest heaving as he breathes through gritted teeth, tears prickling the corners of his eyes because _fuck_ , that hurts like- 

”I- I’m so sorry,” Cas basically whimpers, getting ready to pull out but Dean wraps a leg around his waist even though his every instinct tells him not to. 

”Just give me a minute,” Dean blurts out, gasping as pain rips through his spine and his insides feel like an elephant is dancing step-dance on them. It burns and hurts and _hurts_ and Dean tries to breathe but every time Cas moves even a fraction of an inch it flares up and gets even worse, and tears of pain are flowing from his eyes and he can’t make it stop. 

”Please, Dean, don’t-”

”It’s okay, s’okay. Distract me,” Dean says through gritted teeth, still struggling to breathe because Cas doesn’t _do_ anything besides making a distressed noise deep in his throat. 

”How?” 

”Just fucking kiss me,” Dean snaps, and before he can form another thought Cas has him smothered in a kiss. It takes a while for Dean to open up to it, but Cas’s tongue can do magnificent things and before long Dean is groaning against his lips. The pain between his legs is still pulsating, but then Cas starts kneading his thighs, his hips and his ass, working at the tense muscles and it sends sparks of pleasure through his gut and his softened cock perks up in interest. Cas continues working on the front and inside of his thighs, at the same time as his mouth travels down to his nipples. His tongue swirls around and he nips a little at it with his teeth, only to suck lightly and go on with the tongue-swirl again, and Dean just melts underneath his touch. 

” _Ugh_ \- keep doing- _oh god_ -” Dean rambles, still unhinged from basically being split open, but by now the pain is bearable. While basically being picked apart by Cas’s hands and mouth, Dean sneaks a hand down to his own discarded cock and tentatively strokes it, pleased to find that he’s only two or three strokes away from a complete hard-on. Cas somehow registers what he’s doing and decides to help out, locking their fingers together and by now the hot flush in his groin completely drowns out every other sensation in his body. 

Unconsciously, Cas nudges his hips a little closer to Dean’s and the following burst of flames down Dean’s spine is completely and utterly addictive. 

It all goes downhill from there on. 

”Go on, Cas, move,” Dean urges, using what little leverage he has to move his hips. Cas is still looking a little freaked out, but determined, so he complies. Agonizingly slowly he pulls back, about halfway, before pushing forwards again. This time, Dean chokes because of the pure pleasure of it, instead of pain. 

”Again,” he says, and Cas repeats the motion. He keeps up with the same rhythm for far too long, slow, gentle thrusts, and Dean lets him until the pain has seeped away completely. Without warning, he grabs hold of Cas’s hips and pulls him forwards, until he is deeper inside Dean than ever before and both of them have to gasp for breath. Cas pulls out again, and with Dean’s guiding hands, thrusts forwards. Dean has to bite his lip to keep himself from screaming out. 

Cas gets some of his courage back, and keeps up the pace on his own, until they are both sweaty messes. Dean’s prostate is bordering on being overstimulated, and that along with Cas’s hand around his dick soon ends with him blowing his load all over Cas’s stomach. Cas keeps on fucking him, hips moving in a tense and desperate rhythm, and Dean helps him get off by clenching around him and grabbing his hips to pull him deeper. Suddenly he freezes, eyebrows pulled tightly together, before he relaxes completely and collapses on top of Dean. 

They both take a moment to catch their breaths, at least until Dean nudges at Cas to get off him, both of them hissing as his dick slips out. They lay side by side, breathing heavily. 

”Well, I guess I can cross that off my bucket list,” Dean sighs happily. Cas chuckles quietly and grabs Dean’s hand, letting their fingers intertwine. 

”Thank you,” he says quietly. Dean smiles and closes his eyes. 


End file.
